My best kept secret

My therapist said I should write you a letter. Free hand, she said. Just keep writing and writing. But if I did this with a pen my arm would give out much faster than my fingers would typing on a computer. So I went for the 21st century version of writing a letter. I feel almost angry writing this, knowing you’ll never read it. I know you’ll never read it because I’ll never have the guts to give it to you. There’s no point. It’d be like reading a letter from a stranger. Because that’s what we are. What we’ve become. “Strangers”. I don’t even know how either of us would react were we to pass one another on the street. Would we smile? Light up with joy? Or be shy and coy? Would we ignore one another, or pretend like we hadn’t seen each other and quickly glance the other way? Would it be awkward or extraordinary? My therapist knows a few things about me. Where I go to college, my relationship with my parents, what I want to be, my addictions. And last week she learned another thing about me. I am a hopeless romantic. I am a 21 year old boy holding onto the relationship I had when I was a 16 year old because I’ve yet to find another relationship as fulfilling since ours. As I was explaining our story to her I could hear and feel how pathetic I sounded. How delusional. Am I hitting stalker potential? Is it you I miss or the feelings that relationship gave me? I know how crazy I sound. “Let go” everyone I’ve ever told our story to says, “you need to learn to let go”. But how does one go about doing that? It’s been five years since I’ve seen you. Six since we’ve broken up. Don’t you think if I knew how to let go I would have done it by now?! I feel like screaming at them all.

Most days I am able to convince myself I think about you so often because I long to be in love again. And you were the only person I’ve ever experienced that with. And then other days I am imagining scenarios in my head of what I’d do if we met face to face again. A lot of the time I wonder if you ever think of me. If you wonder what I’m doing. I mean I live down somewhere on the same planet, I’m your ex boyfriend, your first serious relationship you must think of me sometimes, right? Writing this I feel so foolish. I see on paper the thoughts and feelings in my head that I am ashamed of. This is really getting quite old you know? I’m sick of talking about it myself. I wish I could see you once more soon, this summer even, just so I can get the idea of seeing you out of my head. And maybe then I’ll feel better. I don’t know why it is I feel the need to see you. I think the spiteful part of me just wants to see how you’d react.

You nailed it on the head when signing my high school yearbook, “I guess the saddest thing about our whole situation is that there was no definite ending.” You can say that again. I need an ending. I don’t leave things half finished or with a “…. To be continued” on the end. You’ve gone on and written your love stories while I am still here waiting for the final unfinished chapter of ours. This is a co-author deal here ”K”, I can’t write the ending alone. GOD I sound like such a psycho ex boyfriend. But I often wonder do you talk to your friends about me at all?

I guess I just don’t understand how someone can mean so much to you and then you’re okay with never seeing them again. I’ve been okay with not seeing my friends because I wasn’t in love with them, they came and they go after every three years, you know why, right? I was only ever in love with you, and I know in my heart you were in love with me too. How do you fall out of love? More importantly how do you fall out of your first love? Is it possible to? Is it really possible to ever fully move on? Or do we just find someone else to fall in love with to fill the void? I think the saddest thing about my still thinking about this all these years later is I don’t even really know you now. We’ve been apart five years since high school and we’ve both changed, and grown, and become two totally different people from who we were when we were 15. In a way as a result of the ending of our relationship and the obviousness that we weren’t getting back together I think I started to love myself a little less. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for me to lose myself in the college scene. I’ve changed a lot you know. Not so great in some ways. I’ve damaged my body, my relationships, my trustworthiness, and most of all my spirit. You said not to lose myself among the crowd, to stand out and be individualistic. Is that what you loved about me so much? That back when I was in high school I didn’t care about fitting in? I don’t blame the friends I’ve made, I have made some wonderful ones along the way don’t get me wrong. They have pulled me out of some of my darkest nights, moments I would never dare to bring up again. I blame my inability to say no when it was appropriate. But it would be so easy to blame you for all of my downfalls the last five years. I’ve tried relationships but... I’ve run away from opportunities to be loved. I’ve been reckless with others’ hearts. I have been chaotic. And I’m not proud. But I’m learning and working on it and trying to get myself back to a place where I’m not afraid to look in the mirror. But you don't know any of this about me.

So I wake up everyday, go to work, go to class, go to family functions, hang out with friends, take showers, listen to music, read books, eat dinner with my family, go to temple, run in my neighborhood, go to the grocery store and the mall, order coffee at CCD, text several people a day, see a therapist, write in a diary, stay up late, do all of this and all the awhile no one I come in contact with ever knows that I am always thinking of you. You have always been my best kept secret.

when we were together

Everyone always wants to know how you can tell when it’s true love, and I think the answer is this: when the pain doesn't fade and the scars don’t heal, and it’s too damned late.

I loved you because you observed me as no one has, in my silence, you captured my habits, and quirks and still loved me. Last summer meant so much to me. More than you can ever imagine. And when you left I was a wreck. The letters I sent I tried to seem okay but I wasn't, I cried every night and every day I would wait for you to come back. In our time together you claimed a special place in my heart, one I’ll carry with me forever and that no one can replace. I believe that memories can have a physical almost living presence, and the times we shared are the best I've got. When I close my eyes I can see your face, when I walk it’s almost as if I can feel your hand in mine. Those things are still real to me, but where they once brought comfort, now they leave me with an ache. I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.

I fell in love you when we were together, I fell more in love with you when we were apart. I think that is dumb of me to say because while I was falling you were being hardened, trained, and sculpted into a person that I didn’t know. But I guess if you love deeply, you’re going to get hurt badly but it’s still worth it.

“I never planned on falling in love with you, and in a different way your family, I always thought it to be unnecessary and messy. I learned the hard way that I was right.”

I often remember our intimate moments together, the way we shared ourselves completely I feel as if that time has permanently linked our souls. I never opened myself up to anyone like that, and I hope I never have to do that again. I hope that you are the only one who knows each and every one of my secrets and fears, I hope that no one else hears my voice telling them that I love them when I first wake up or that I fall asleep in almost every movie theater. I hope that no one knows that you twitch when you sleep. I hope that no one comes to know the sound you make when a certain spot on your neck is kissed or that you might be the perfect girl.

I miss you, whenever something funny happens you’re the person I want to tell. I want to make dinner for you and buy birthday cake ice cream because I saw it in the store and remembered it is your favorite. I want to fight with you, and explain, in depth, why the TRUTH is better than the DARE. I want to pretend to be interested in your dress selection  and kiss you goodnight every single night. You and I shared something wonderful and I never want to forget that. You are truly one of a kind.

You’re thoughtful and honest, a true person, but more than that you are the first girl I ever truly loved and no matter what the future brings, you always will be, and I know that my life is better for it.

I love you, always.

Goodbyes are never Perfect...

I wrote this nearly two years ago, the void is still there.

Nothing in life is certain, people, places and occurrences come and go. Nothing in this world is permanent. Life is a fleeting moment that reforms in each new passing instant. And while nothing is permanent, we are still affected and moved in unexpected ways. People that you never expected to hold significance in your life, become the ones hardest to forget. They stroll into your life as insignificant as single leaf is to a tree. And in a season or two, they fall, and their loss strikes a surprising pain.

Naked is the only way to describe how the loss of something so presumably insignificant makes you feel. You find that the smallest things throw you into memories that now seem so bittersweet and haunting. Every memory glorified to be almost unworldly perfect, but when you strain hard enough the flawed details surface, and realize your perceived reality is skewed. I can only equate this phenomenon to that of when someone dies. Suddenly their memory is perfect, every flaw vanishes. It’s not that they were perfect in reality, but rather from some reason we torture ourselves by believing their memory is flawless, making their severance nearly impossible and painstakingly difficult.

This same situation holds true when you must muster an agonizing goodbye to someone close who moves to a different country, state, or even city. Their tie becomes almost impossible to cut as you trick yourself into believing every moment with them was much more magical than in reality it was. Their loss strikes a plaguing fear; the fear of forgetting them, and the fear of never finding someone to fill the empty void they left. While your common sense tells you that your void is not permanent, for nothing is, you heart is heavy with the notion that you emptiness is impermeable. It is simply easier to tend to the haunting memories of a past lover than to lend your fractured being someone who could easily, “kick you while you’re down,” so to speak. But what is even more difficult than saying a goodbye is to see the world in someone who sees nothing, to value their life above your own when they value their own at less than the worth of a single penny. To hear the words, “I want to die,” from someone so close feels like a knife plunging right the bottom of your soul. It obliterates every last bit of you, leaving you entirely hallow. Hopelessly all you can do is wish and pray that they find all the things that you have found in them. Hope that they discover why you fell in love with them, why you felt they were worth tearing down your fear of vulnerability for. To deal with a goodbye is hard enough, but deal with the idea that the person you feel so deeply for is suicidal is beyond what any words can describe. And then to be constantly bombarded with the question of how do you feel about so and so leaving is beyond difficult. You want to scream everything that you are feeling. You want to break down and cry and tell them how you are riddled with fear, confusion, and pain, but that’s not what people really want to hear. So you do what is easiest for them and for you and you say that you couldn’t care less, even though it is the furthest thing from the truth.

I know that time heals all. I know eventually people will stop asking, and it will get easier. While a big part of me wishes I could forget everything, an even bigger part of me has believe that everything has purpose. While the purpose may not be clear now, I have hope that someday it will be. That is the beauty of fate. I have hope that things will get better not just on my end, but on her as well. Severance is never easy, goodbyes are never perfect, and I’m finally at peace with that. So goodbye and take care, may you find joy in all that you do. I only have the best of wishes for you.

And the rest of the world falls away...

"Love: a single word, a waspy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge. That's what it is: an edge; a razor. It draws up through the center of your life, cutting everything in two. Before and after. The rest of the world falls away on either side." 

- Lauren Oliver, the author of Delirium

Days like today when all else is done, my time is occupied by memories of you. Every second of every hour are the thoughts of I'd rather be with you.. wherever you are. But you will never know that... why?.. Well because I'm too scared to say what I feel.

Too scared to say- I wanna be with YOU.

Too scared to say- I miss you like heck.

Too scared to say- I'm sorry.

Simple enough, but yet so difficult. How do you begin to tell someone what they mean to you? Or how much they mean to you? It's easy when I think of the "I should'ves" and "could'ves" looking back now, but when the time comes.. I freeze. I guess cause I loved the guarantee that if I didn't speak, then I could always stay close to you. Even if it was just as a best friend. Such a twisted thought, but I knew deep in my heart somehow I always wanted you to be a part of my life. And now; I've messed ALL that up.

The misconception that you just wanted to be "friends" forced me to think, I needed to step back and move on. To allow you to find what you were looking for cause no matter how much I wanted there to be an 'us', I wasn't gonna jeopardize your happiness.

Maybe that was the heroic thing to do.

Not to be selfish (although I wish I could be).

But I feel much like the villain. I lost your trust. And I have no excuses. I don't want to try and make any either. I just want you to know (in your heart somehow) that I think about you all the time and like said before you're not easily forgotten. It's embarrassing that I cannot be strong enough to tell you this but I can write it all down on a screen you will never see. This is my comfort zone, for now, so this'll have to do. And secretly, the little brave part left inside of me, is silently telling you:

I loved us.

I've missed us.

I miss you... but most importantly; I love you.

-K