Ours.
I mean, it would never happen.. like never.
We learned over the course of our 2 year relationship things that worked, but, ultimately, things that led to the demise of our love story. Looking back, the story is a beautiful one. We fell in love when the odds were against us, fought to keep our relationship alive, and took every risk we could take to make things work.
I don't regret a thing.
You opened up my heart to new feelings, deeper downfalls, and tingles that I've never felt since. I guess the beauty of sharing a love story with another, is that those feelings remain forever amongst the two, just us two.
We shared the same space, the same touch, the same language for around 730 days, give or take. You let me put my cold feet on your warmth, you held me when I cried for no reason, and you picked me up from the airport time and time again to welcome me across the country. I remember you sticking out your arm to grab me, taking me, making sure that I was there, and there I remained.
After our ending, I thought about how we could make it work again. I didn't want to believe that something that beautiful could end in a matter of a 15 minute conversation and a heap of the things I left at yours on my floor. That image still haunts me to this day- the clothes, the tears, the letter, and the sound of your receding footsteps out my front door.
I wrote letters and letters to sift through all my thoughts, my regrets, my leftover love for you. But those endless thoughts turned to minutes and those minutes turned to seconds until I stopped breathing in those moments and breathed in the scents of my city, my work, my newness.
But once in a blue moon, I think of you. Are you happy? Are you proud of your work? Do you feel loved and heard? All things that I learned overtime of moments spent alone, moments spent dating men of all walks of life, and moments of things I should have done. I know we've grown since that moment- the moment our lives separated. I feel sad that I haven't been able to watch you blossom into your individual self that I always believed you could be. I had so much faith in you, you just needed someone to push you to see yourself the way I saw you everyday. It is nice to see from far away, from pictures, form the outside, that you have grown into the man that I always knew you would be.
We all have work to do and things to work on, and those will be things that remain in each of us as we grow as individuals, to our current selves, our current loves, and all our future loves.
Sharing with you was always a delight, but when the sharing got harder, we started to get more selfish, and that turned into us fighting for our individual selves and not each other. I don't necessarily think this is a bad thing. That was being in our younger 20s- figuring out that maybe it was the right thing: to be selfish. It took me a little longer to realize that for myself, but in the end, I do have to thank you for the risk you took: hurting me to do what was right for each other. Overtime, I learned that it was a sacrifice for you as well. Your hurt was mine and mine was, inevitably, yours.
Are you happy? Are you proud of your work? Do you feel loved and heard?
We learned over the course of our 2 year relationship things that worked, but, ultimately, things that led to the demise of our love story. Looking back, the story is a beautiful one. We fell in love when the odds were against us, fought to keep our relationship alive, and took every risk we could take to make things work.
I don't regret a thing.
You opened up my heart to new feelings, deeper downfalls, and tingles that I've never felt since. I guess the beauty of sharing a love story with another, is that those feelings remain forever amongst the two, just us two.
We shared the same space, the same touch, the same language for around 730 days, give or take. You let me put my cold feet on your warmth, you held me when I cried for no reason, and you picked me up from the airport time and time again to welcome me across the country. I remember you sticking out your arm to grab me, taking me, making sure that I was there, and there I remained.
After our ending, I thought about how we could make it work again. I didn't want to believe that something that beautiful could end in a matter of a 15 minute conversation and a heap of the things I left at yours on my floor. That image still haunts me to this day- the clothes, the tears, the letter, and the sound of your receding footsteps out my front door.
I wrote letters and letters to sift through all my thoughts, my regrets, my leftover love for you. But those endless thoughts turned to minutes and those minutes turned to seconds until I stopped breathing in those moments and breathed in the scents of my city, my work, my newness.
But once in a blue moon, I think of you. Are you happy? Are you proud of your work? Do you feel loved and heard? All things that I learned overtime of moments spent alone, moments spent dating men of all walks of life, and moments of things I should have done. I know we've grown since that moment- the moment our lives separated. I feel sad that I haven't been able to watch you blossom into your individual self that I always believed you could be. I had so much faith in you, you just needed someone to push you to see yourself the way I saw you everyday. It is nice to see from far away, from pictures, form the outside, that you have grown into the man that I always knew you would be.
We all have work to do and things to work on, and those will be things that remain in each of us as we grow as individuals, to our current selves, our current loves, and all our future loves.
Sharing with you was always a delight, but when the sharing got harder, we started to get more selfish, and that turned into us fighting for our individual selves and not each other. I don't necessarily think this is a bad thing. That was being in our younger 20s- figuring out that maybe it was the right thing: to be selfish. It took me a little longer to realize that for myself, but in the end, I do have to thank you for the risk you took: hurting me to do what was right for each other. Overtime, I learned that it was a sacrifice for you as well. Your hurt was mine and mine was, inevitably, yours.
Are you happy? Are you proud of your work? Do you feel loved and heard?
Comments
Post a Comment