To an old lover,

Where do I begin with you. The moment I met you, it didn’t hit me. It wasn’t until our hands touched that I actually thought of you in that way. All of a sudden, my naive, unsuspecting self was suddenly thrown into a revelry. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

It was a perfect match. I mean, the logistics of it would be wonderful. School, spirituality, aesthetically. It made sense, other people also realized how much it made sense. I wouldn’t stop receiving their suggestions until long after I had gotten over you. 

Man, after those few months I seriously thought you were the one. Until you did that thing, and it broke my heart. I mean I can’t blame you; she’s pretty perfect. But she’s perfect to everyone else, too. And, when you’re heart was broken, my bitterness stopped me from coming to your side. From there it’s history. It’s funny, well more like sad, how someone you couldn’t imagine your life without becomes someone you never think about anymore. 

I don’t know if there was a mutual bitterness, but there definitely was a cold distance between us. Maybe it’s because you’re weird, maybe it’s because you heard things, frankly it amuses me at how much it doesn’t matter anymore. 

You showed me what dedication was. You showed me how it felt to lose someone. You taught me that I need to be with a person who’s fully there, who outwardly reaches out with care. And finally, you taught me how to get over my feelings and move on (which would become very handy in the coming year). 

I hope you get what you wanted out of life.


Girl with the green jacket