you make me 死心
you make me 死心
I broke up with OKC.
I remember you say: “Let me think about it”.
You did not.
For you, it was clear. You were ending it.
But I remembered you said: “Let me think about it”.
So I spent a week calling you, waiting for you to call, drinking in pubs alone or with my laptop, waiting for you to call.
When you finally called. You told me that you did, in actual fact, end it. A week ago.
I cried. But somehow felt a weight lifted off me.
“But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but
make not a bond of love:
let it rather be a moving sea
the shores of your souls.”
~ Khalil Gibran
We were introduced, a friend thought I needed a change from the bad boys I was dating. Most friends thought I was over-correcting (a la HIMYM).
I was sure you were a positive influence, a homebody, well-mannered, well-read, extremely intelligent. In some ways you were a positive influence.
Yet I should have left you when you first castigated me for missing my flight, leaving me crying in a strange airport with nary a friend. When you refused to visit me for fear of catching my flu, when I caught it from visiting you when you were sick. When you quarreled with me and made me feel small about my weight. When you said you weren’t sure if you wanted to get married ever.
I regret the 2 years I spent with you, we were bad for each other and I wished I saw it earlier. I wish you peace and love with someone who suits you better. I also wish that that someone is fat because love shouldn’t be superficial.
This is perhaps not the typical break up story, probably because we were never together.
We were great friends though, and still are. I knew that if I let myself love you, I could. And for a moment in time, I did.
But our friendship was too precious to me to take that chance. I knew if I decided to change the terms, to want more, you never will, because I’m not your type of girl, and you probably never thought of me in that way ever.
I always told myself that we were just really good friends with a unique relationship and things would never change. But things changed the moment I let myself love you.
Perhaps I should never have, and saved myself this pain and sadness. But I finally knew what it felt like to love someone.
We are still friends, but then, we always will be. That, and nothing more.
We were good for each other, in every sense of the word. He loved me, and me, him.
But maybe we were too good for each other, equally good at being stubborn.
So when he refused to accept my God and I refused to accept him without God, it was the end.
I still wake up dreaming that we fell asleep together and that he is right next to me.
But we no longer talk anymore.
Somehow, uncontrollably, my mind still flickers to that fleeting 4 months we had. How the initial infatuation evolved into something special. How I gave my heart to you, and let it rein free, because I thought we would make it worth the fight despite our challenges.
And now, four years later, looking at the pictures of you and your new boy makes me spiteful. Not in the bitchy way – more of the pain (perhaps regret?) that I let you go that fateful day.
I realised, you’ll always have a discreet place in my heart; no matter how minute or fleeting it was.