Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Boy Who Loved Me


I folded up into a clump in the middle of a sea of love letters, holding my knees tightly to my chest, and sobbed. I was floundering, torn between the deep attachments of the past and the pressing need to let go of them forever.

I was almost ready to die.

Three months earlier I could have sworn that I was the luckiest guy alive. Now, I might as well have drowned in the Pacific Ocean, thousands of miles away from home.

My dark night began in the aftermath of my break-up with my boyfriend. After a fair share of fights and emotional battery, I decided to end the eight-month relationship with the only love I knew.

In a split-second, I morphed back from a blushing, young prince to a pale-faced, plain-looking, Abercrombie-wearing guy in Havaianas flip flops with only my iPod Nano as a companion. He stole my magic when he left.

He took away my life, my dreams, and my dog.

But how do you go about forgetting someone who once meant the world to you? How do you forget the moments that made your heart skip a beat? How do you forget the future you once hoped for?

He was my best friend, my twisted sunshine. He still is. He could walk into a room and light up my day, no matter how bad it was. He's the one person in the world who knows me better than anyone else. He was my soul mate. He's the one being who knew me, and accepted me, and believed in me before anyone else did or when no one else would. He made me want to be a better man to my friends, to others, to myself. To have bigger plans and brighter dreams. To have a better soul. He's a handsome bright young man whose sense of wonder and adventure unfortunately outstripped my own so much that it magnified other, smaller problems to a point where, well....here we are.

For the first time in months, I looked around my apartment and felt the utter loneliness. I am left with nothing but his sweet scent on my pillows. I am stunned, incapable of taking hold of the notion of loss. He no longer binds me, but my heart refuses to move on.

In my insecurity and solitude, I find solace in the fact that this is not the end. Remembering that what lies in store for us isn't always that which we immediately hope for.

Life has a room for a little of everything. Sometimes you dance with a partner, and sometimes you dance alone. But the important thing is to keep dancing.

I still die everyday. It still hurts badly. Letting go isn't a one-time thing, it's something you have to do everyday, over and over again.

Good luck my love.

I hope you find what you're looking for. That hope is only surpassed by my wish it had been me.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

*blog-hopping*'

that's really nice. letting go is really a difficult phase of a break-up.