Dear Ex boyfriend,
I miss you sometimes. You, or the idea of you, I’m not sure. Never mind. Today is one such day.
Let’s try to catch up. I met a lot of people in the short span of the life after you. You will never know about them. I’m sure you have come a long way too and there’s no turning back.
Apparently, I am an amazing kisser. Apparently, I am not as bloated as you made me believe. Apparently, I am a strong woman and it turns out, I have dreams and aspirations too.
“How could he leave you?”
“How can anyone leave you?”
they don’t know me half as well as you did. Or did you?
You were the first love of my life. Few of the happiest moments of my life were spent with you. I still believe no man could cross the bar you have set. But, I realize now, I was happy then, because as a sixteen year old, I had made the choice to be happy. I was happy because I, the hopeless romantic, the poet at heart, had decided to commemorate the first love of my life without any inhibitions. I was happy because I grew up reading Shakespeare and believed in the sanctity of one true love. I realize now, it was not you, but I who created the happiest moments of my life.
I met this guy recently who I probably like. You wouldn’t believe what he looks like! He’s not 6 feet 2. He’s not buffed up like Emmett Cullen. He is not a brainiac or a daredevil. In fact, he’s scared of heights. Hell, he never opens the door for me. He bangs it in my face instead and laughs. But, it feels like we click. We are great friends. He is the better kisser. But, whenever I try to let loose, I see these red flags sticking up to my face.
Somewhere, somehow, this twenty- four- year- old- me failed in the courage that sixteen year old so abundantly had. It’s because while you shared the happiest moments of my life, you ushered in the saddest, inconsolable moments too. When you left me, it hit so hard not because, it broke my heart, but because it made me lose faith in the beliefs I had held most sacred all my life. It’s difficult when you want it to last so ardently. I was crestfallen.
I am still picking up pieces of me from the past and the future. A part of me never made it past that bend in the road, that shade of the Mahogany, that moonlit backyard, that last bench of the class or back from that porch you would build twenty years hence. Maybe, that part of me belongs there, not with me anymore. Maybe, you become whole not by picking broken pieces, but by leaving parts of you behind. Maybe, in the end, it’s not about how much you can carry, but about how much you can let go.
Maybe, I met you so that I could lose myself. For every time I lost a bit of me, I gained perspective. It was a beautiful journey and like all others, it ended when it had to. Maybe, I lost sight of the destination because you made it so pretty and nothing can change that; not today, not ten years from now. No one can take that away from me. I think, in the end, life is all about discovering yourself. You meet people who introduce you to yourself in different lights. You find yourself doing things you would never have imagined you were capable of. Then, maybe, you should not build walls around you and welcome people in as they pass by. For, happiness is not a circumstance, but just another choice.
In the end, when all of this becomes but a distant memory, you would have met ‘the real you’. You would be able to distinguish the face from the innumerable masks you had been masquerading all your life. In the end, it will be just you and your perspectives and you will fly away. You will find peace.
Your Ex Girlfriend