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I met you almost four years ago and my world has never stopped spinning ever since. I was never one to believe in fairytales, but that Wednesday everything changed. As you walked into that elevator, my heart almost fell off my chest; my knees went weak, and the rush of warm blood rushed my body, as I lost my breath to your sight. In that moment I knew my life would never be the same; and I wasn’t wrong.

I made it my goal to find you, and what a sorcery, destiny always has a way of making things happen. After that very first time we talked it was inevitable to fall head over heels for you. You were everything: smart, adventurous, even a bit snobby, in the sexy way. You showed me pictures of your trips around the world, and I began to dream that we could do it together someday. You showed me songs, poetry, books, and while your soul was that of an artist, you mind was driven and grounded: the heart of a scientist, whose incredulity clashed with the hope you hid behind your shiny brown eyes. That hope I clung to, but I never quite understood what it expected.

I am not sure when you figured out that I loved you but I know eventually you did, possibly because I was never as good at hiding things as you were. Maybe that was when our meetings became less sporadic and more hidden. You told everyone we were ‘good friends,’ but you knew that I never saw you as such. But I couldn’t stop, and I know it was my fault because I became addicted to the person I was when I was with you: so free, unapologetic, without any burden of expectations. With you, I discovered the darkest parts of myself, and I loved them. You brought out an inner strength I didn’t thought I had, and as the ‘worst’ emerged, I became someone I never knew I could be. You made me cross every line: I was a girl, you were a man, you taught me how to feel for the first time. But my fascination with you was never about how you touched me, it was about what you made me feel when you didn’t.

I fell in love with the way you lived life, with the way the universe opened through your stories as a spectrum of possibilities. I love how you made me rethink everything, feel nothing and all in the same sip of whiskey. I feel in love with your ideas, with the freedom I found in your ways. With you, for the first time, I was me. The problem was that I should have conformed with that, with having the only part of you you could actually give me. But I wanted more, and as I tried to reach for your heart, your spines torn mine apart.

What I found, was not the show you put on for everyone; it was far from charming and desirable, but rather scary. What I found, was a lost boy from neverland, who refuses to grow up, who refuses to tell himself the truth. You inspired me to reach for the world, but you could never finish anything you started. You told me to be fearless, but you were always a coward that ran away whenever things were getting hard. You told me not to care about anybody’s opinions, but you hid me very well because I wouldn’t meet your friend’s standard of hot. You told me to be free but you were always captive of your fears, of your struggles, of your excesses. That was you, a walking contradiction: a man that taught me to be great, while you yourself were a mediocre.

 

For three years I have beaten myself down, wondering what have I done wrong, because you can’t love me. Now I see, that you can’t love anybody, not even yourself. You are so broken, despite the charade you play, you can only be prince charming for a night. You were right, I was a friend to you. I was the kind of friend who would skip class to talk to you whenever you had a problem. I was the kind of friend to help you deal with your hangover, even if I was never the girl that woke up with you. I always told you how great you could be, but you never trusted me. I looked at you like you were my whole world, you barely ever looked at me.

It was a Tuesday, the day it hit me, I had to stop loving you. There was too much tequila, but then I could see you clearly, for the first time. But what hit me, was that I could finally see myself, the way you see me, like I am nothing to you, like I have never been.

Four years since I met you, I am a whole new, different person. I blossomed, I became who I was always meant to be. You pushed me to my limits, and in some odd way, you were the very best thing that has ever happened to me. Because of you, I sat behind a keyboard for the first time and poured my heart out, now I will make a living out of my letters. You helped me realize that the world was so much bigger than I thought, that the possibilities were endless. Also, you gave me the greatest lesson of all, one should never count on anyone to get things done; but mostly you should never expect anything. You made me strong, you made me brave, you made me fearless; loving you brought out the best on me.

Now, we are so far away, I can barely see you. While you taught me to fly, you remained wounded on the floor. And I tried to heal you, God knows I did, but you chose to remain that way, because it is easier to hope than to achieve. I really hope, you can make it out someday. I hope you find someone that you actually let in to help you, like I let you in. I hope you can someday experience the beauty of loving someone deeply, the way I loved you. I really hope, love, you can find meaning for your life someday, because you gave mine one.

But as for now, I am saying goodbye and I am never looking back. As amazing as loving you was, it could have destroyed me. I had to walk away, because your infection could have spread to me, and kill every beautiful thing you had ever given me. I really hope never to see you again, and I also hope that as you read this letter you heart can start beating again. The only thing I wish for you in life, is every beautiful feeling you ever made me experience. But this time, I won’t be there to listen. This time I won’t call you at 12:01 to wish you happy birthday.  This time I will lie in the arms of another set of brown eyes that stare at me as if I were their whole world. This time, I will be out there, receiving what I gave you, but you always denied me.

Photo credits: Esquire Magazine

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