The truth is, we were always different, him and I. I know this letter is to you, but I feel like I should explain myself first.
He cared about the center of galaxies, while I cared about why Gabriel Garcia Marquez never wrote about galaxies. He cared about what stars were made of, and I just wanted to fantasize about the fact that we were made of stars. He made me something I was not, I made him too sensitive to comprehend by himself. So we split, to become ourselves again. And when I was myself again, I realized that our relationship, our possible friendship with one another, and the relationship between you and I didn’t matter anymore.
Bur for some reason, I feel like I owe you something. I feel like I have something to prove. Because I am a better person now, and I want you to see that side of me.
I feel like you always knew we were not a good fit. I would rant and rave about old music, my fond memories, my creative desires, and you would look at me like I was a child, almost too imaginative, too good to be true. Over freshly sliced honeydew and cheap coffee, he would sleep and we would talk. Morning light illuminated the conversation, and in those small days I remember how euphoric those mornings would be. And thinking back on these mornings, I can honestly say they were the happiest part of my relationship.
And I can’t tell if that’s something I should be ashamed of, or something I should have just known the whole time. Because even though you and I certainly have our differences, we existed on the same plane. While he and I, we did not.
We were artistic, we were existential. And even though I envisioned us on the same plane, even though I believe we connected in some way, I will always feel I was never enough for you. I was not impressive enough for you. I did not want the same things, I could not do the same math, and for these reasons, I was not enough. And that feeling, that is the feeling that scorches me, for just a millisecond, when I am reminded of you, though him. And that is not fair.
I deserve to feel enough. And even though I am a better person now, I was still a good person back then. Making me feel inadequate was wrong, after I trusted you, after how certain I was of the connection between us. Breaking this trust has caused me to doubt the great things in myself, sending me backwards in the everlasting journey between me and the mirror. You are now a part of the obstacle.
So, for my own self-gratification, here are the ways I bettered myself after this fight.
My diet is better now. Small feat in perspective, but always our biggest argument. I slice my own honeydew, from my own farmer’s market, and I do just fine with it. I eat more vegetables, whole wheat English muffins, and MorningStar products. In my own little twisted image, you would be so proud of me.
I have completed my study in art. I have learned about film, film history, and a little theatre. I know the difference between formal and informal balance, I understand color scheme, and visual hierarchy. Now I can truly admire, and the feeling of being a lost little girl in a very big forest while in your studio has diminished. For the most part.
I am in the process of trying to love myself. This first comes with the process of forgiving myself. I am beginning to forgive myself for my judgements, my small mistakes, and my unnecessary need to make everything so deep. It is okay to feel deeply. It is okay to be expressive. You taught me that, in some small way. Ironically.
And finally, I am forgiving myself for this relationship. For not realizing how well we did not fit. For forcing something because I was afraid. For accepting that I was hurt, and it was not my fault. It is a liberating, miraculous feeling.
But my fear, my depth, should not strike fear in you. Other girls will be enough. Other girls will know the math, be able to drink the coffee, and be able to handle the cats. And making them feel the way you made me feel will be selfish, and only hurt. It will only push back more obstacles in more mirrors.
So do me a favor: share our coffee, our honeydew, and our memories. And with this equation, you will make sure the girls who are enough will stay.
And remember: you are holding these girls mirror journeys in your hands. Treat them like they were your own. Treat them like they were his journey in the mirror.