I hope this letter finds you well. I desire that each and every new day is truly a new day for you. Truth be told, writing this letter is kind of difficult because lately, I don’t think of you often at all. I mean I mention your name, the gifts you bought me get used and remind me of you, our mutual friends show up on my Facebook feed and I am reminded that they are your friends too, but as far as painful thoughts go, they’ve become few and far between.
I feel panicked by that all of a sudden. I don’t want to forget you. I don’t think I am ready to seal the end with such finality. I don’t want to imagine that you and I really will just be a sad pathetic story of two broken people who barely lasted five months.
It’s strange how such a short amount of time can warrant such powerful bonds. I bonded with you Laura, in ways perhaps you didn’t bond with me. I sometimes wonder if you ever cared at all. Every so often, when I am feeling stressed or tired, I do think of you. I think about all the bullshit you put me through and then, for at least a five-minute span of time, I am supremely convinced that you were always a bad person—a user, an abuser without any conscience or conviction within you whatsoever.
These feelings are tensely angry and fuel a few short moments of determination to make you wish you had never hurt me. Followed, of course, by a few seconds of notions to never again open up or love someone that way again, out of self–preservation.
I assume we all feel this way: this muddled, mixed up, confusion that leads down several paths on any given day. One day I am perfectly fine—no memories, no pain, no sadness. The next, I am angry and still wish I could have gotten in those clever last words to sting your heart with. Then, of course, there are still those days when I just wish I could kiss you again, feel your warm skin, hear your laugh and see those beautiful brown eyes staring back at me—the days I remember our love.
Those days are in short supply recently and it has me startled. Is it odd that I don’t want to stop loving you? I don’t want to move on? I would rather be in pain for many more months, if it meant I could recall your face easily without having to see a picture.
I try and see you in my mind and the image gets more blurry and faded as time continues on. I try and remember a moment we shared, the sound of your voice, the words that were said and they slip away, almost like autumn leaves being carried off by a brisk winter wind.
I am scared. Have you forgotten me, Laura? Am I forgetting you? I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I was sure. I chose to love you and I was gonna choose to stay loyal to that choice till death took my very breath.
You used me to fill time, a space that you couldn’t bare empty. I was just a placeholder till you could figure out what else to jam in that great big gaping void in your life. School replaced me. At least I think so. It could have been your ex. I know you’re talking to her again, which by the way is really fucked up.
Did you ever really love me, Laura? I find a ton of insecurities that I thought were gone swirling around in my head as I write this. I find myself disturbed that in this very moment, I feel insecure and yet hollow at the same time. I feel empty. I am only human. My self–awareness, gained wisdom, sense of love and forgiveness, they are all wonderful attributes that any person should desire; but here in my room in the middle of the night—unable to sleep, unable to even really write what I feel deep down—they fail me.
Maybe it’s ok. Maybe we are all supposed to experience days like this. Days where nothingness consumes us. Days where the literal fear of having nothing left to fear rears its ugly head and reminds us that we will never have it all figured out.
A rush of peace just hit me. The idea that I have to understand everything all the time or be centered every day is insane. Truth is, life is all about balance. It’s about learning the beauty of the yin and the yang so to speak. There will always be dark days, confusing days. These days prepare and ready my spirit for the days of harmony and light. How would I recognize such goodness without such sorrow?
I don’t know if you can appreciate any of what I am saying Laura. I am not sure, at least while I knew you, if you were ready to embrace balance. You saw it as an enemy, a foe to fight.
You saw dark days and confusion as the results of you being a failure in some way. “If bad things happen to me, then I must be doing something wrong.”
Truth is, most of society sees life in this very manner. I know I did for a very long time. In fact, I catch myself sliding right back into that brand of thinking quite often. Usually when something happens in my life that is less than pleasant, (and I use those words sarcastically, because typically my whole world goes to shit in a matter of seconds—it’s not just one or two things, it’s like a dozen in an hour, lol) I will instantly wonder why I am being punished, or what it was I did that has brought such plight upon me. This kind of rationalization isn’t rational at all.
Now, should we weigh our choices and consequences next to each other to help us grow and better our lives? Of course. Do bad things happen sometimes because we invited them? Oh hell yes. But can bad things happen when we really had no part in it? YES. Why? Because they do.
Simple. Bad things happen. Good things happen. End of story. There is no big mystical explanation.
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