Dear Almost Lover,
You knew this was coming.
Let me just congratulate you on your newfound happiness. I guess it validates that –for lack of a better term–dumping me was the best decision you’ve ever made. Not that you had any doubt in your mind, but it simply makes emotionally blindsiding me–unintentional or otherwise–logical and acceptable. After all, the end justifies the means.
From the few months that we have gotten to know each other, I am aware at how particular you are with everything that’s going on with your life. So particular that most of the time, you don’t exactly know what you want but you know you don’t want me in it.
It’s also been a while since I last wrote to you. Letters that are never meant to be sent. Letters that make me feel we’re still connected somehow. Letters that will never change anything.
I must tell you, I still feel a tinge of bitterness and resentment whenever I find myself zoning out and revisiting those days. It’s inevitable. I don’t think anybody can blame me for having these moments as they were, and will always be, a permanent scene etched in my screwed-up and phenomenally sharp memory that has its way of getting to me during the worst times of the day, for some reason. An overwhelming year that was.
It gets better though. Every waking day becomes easier when dealing with flashbacks. I now learn to appreciate our encounter (yes, it’s now been reduced to an encounter) for what it was and not for what it isn’t. I even find myself smiling sometimes when I’m being reminded with the good. Everything turned out for the best because we were left without much choice, which is a good thing, really. Because look at you, doing incredibly well in all aspects of your life. Incredibly well. It does get easier–seeing you that way.
But there’s still a part of me that misses everything. That part of me that never really outgrew you, nor have forgotten you. That part of me that still wishes things have been different. That part of me that you took when you left.
I miss everything.
I miss the feelings, the emotions, the happies and smilies.
I miss the thought of what could have been.
I miss what we had even if it was short and vague and pointless, to me it was everything that moment.
I miss us.
And I want to say that I miss you but I guess I just miss the person that I met, unfortunately that isn’t you right now. Not anymore.
I want to do it like you did, you know. Move on without a trace. Like it didn’t happen. Like we don’t exist. It’s the only way that I would start living now as opposed to dwelling in the past; stop feeling bitter, stop feeling so inadequate, stop feeling like it was my fault. What happened the past year changed me in a not-so-ideal way and I’m still finding myself back in the right track. Slowly but surely.
It was a good past after all, before it got ugly.
I’m pretty sure that if we stumbled upon each other one day–if ever that day comes–we’ll pretend we don’t know each other, which is a bit sad, if you ask me. But I guess being strangers was the unspoken agreement when you wrote me off your life. Apparently, you made the rules and I should follow. It was your choice that mattered more. It was your happiness that was at stake. Who am I to get in the way.
There’s really nothing left to say and yet there’s still more. I’m not sure. But despite everything, I don’t want anything bad ever happening to you. At least this much is true.
Regards,
Your Almost Lover
