You became my stars, so when you left, my night turned into black and dark.
* Playing in the back: “Sittin’ On The Dock of The Bay,” Otis Redding.
Here we are again; we’ve gotten to this point, huh? We both know it is not working out, yet here we are, waiting to see if we should extend it another day, another morning sun.
Maybe if we say nothing, our expectations could change, and then, we could certainly be perfect for each other.
Finally, I’m feeling brave, but I’m scared to ask: how do you feel about us? It feels like a rhetorical question since I know we both feel like a mismatch. Our hearts are like legos that won’t ever make the perfect piece.
Your words carry such tender kindness and respect during this important moment. For this, I respect you even more.
We know our expectations for a relationship are different: you want independence and fun dates; I want endless cuddles and routine. I said I wouldn’t take the space you needed for yourself, and yet I did.
Why is my heart holding on to this agitated sea that is about to burst into tiny waves through my eyes? Why? My mind implores: I don’t have much money, but boy, if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live. I am glad my throat didn’t let me sing.
There is no drama, no hurtful things to yell, no fry pans thrown at each other—just two adults expressing all the work that we must do for ourselves before we can offer our patched heart to someone else.
You turn to me, your eyes look at me with such kindness, you hold my face in your hands and kiss me. Never have I loved someone’s touch so much because it is real; I feel your warmth.
You are brave to say, “I don’t want to let you go.” I scream as loud as I can, “Well, don’t!” Of course, you can’t hear me. My hand grabs my other hand, pushes it back, I shake my own head and say to myself, “No, don’t do this, let it go.”
You want us to be friends, you want me to be happy, and you say that you’re not everything that I want, and I believe you. Is there any other choice?
Here we are; you’re quiet; I’m quiet; silence; just holding hands. We make jokes, trying to spread the heaviness that is condensed in the air. We smirk at each other, knowing that sharing a full smile cannot be done right now.
I can’t hold on to you just because I am afraid to be alone. I guess adulthood is showing me that I can appreciate you, love you, and still let you go.
This echo in my head tells me to not do this—that I can make it work. It becomes louder and louder, but no. You deserve my honesty as I deserve yours.
We kiss—for what feels like a short summer. Your lips are so soft, your warm breath, your hands in my hair turn me into melted butter. We hug with the sorrow of two lovers who know that the time has come.
I still love you, and my wish is to keep with me your kindness, your honesty, your passion, and how deep you looked me in the eyes every time we made love.
If I were younger, fun, picnics, sex, and laughter for me could have been enough. But not anymore. I had dreamed of us doing the dishes together, exercising, having endless walks, talking about how our lives could add some goodness to this broken world of us.
Goodbye, handsome pumpkin. Thank you for being there when the cold winds struck in my life. Being wrapped inside your arms, I believed, I truly believed that your heart was my home, and for me, your care was enough. Maybe at that time, it was.
Now my feet are cold; there’s no blanket to warm me up. I am drinking dark, bitter coffee, like this bitter-wrecking punch in my gut. Sweets are for happy days; this is unquestionably not. Breathing deeply, my chest feels tight. I won’t run away from this pain; I must let it be, nothing else.
Here I am, typing, tears won’t stop coming down. My nose is so stuffed, my face is as red as you remember it. Goodbyes hurt, especially knowing that, as you said, “We got along so nicely. I am hopeful that one day, thinking of you will spark a smile on my face. When this happens, I want to meditate and send you some light.”
A light that will carry gratefulness for our lives, momentarily colliding into one beautiful winter love.