Dear future ex
I’ll be honest, despite continuously talking about our then-future-breakup, I was never actually prepared for the wave of pain that would come along with actually breaking up. I think the reason it hurts so much is because even though I went on and on about eventually breaking up, I didn’t, for a second, completely believe it myself. I didn’t want to believe it myself.
I guess that’s where I went wrong.
It was inevitable anyway.
Well, whatever. There’s not much I can do now.
I know it’s all gone, and that the magic’s not there anymore. And you might be okay but I’m not fine at all. Because I still remember the way I felt when you said I was a photo frame on the desk that was your mind which you couldn’t stop looking at, the way you stared at me in assembly, the way you said you loved my smile and the way you made me smile.
You see, idiot? What you do to me? How you still screw with my head? Remembering you comes in flashbacks, and I tell myself it’s time now, I can let you go. But is it weird that I like having these flashbacks? I know it’s all gone now and there’s nothing else I can do actually, and I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to.
Maybe we got lost. Maybe I asked for too much (I realise now that nothing is ever enough). But maybe what we had was a masterpiece and we, I tore it all up.
I could be typical and irrationally ask you to un-touch me, and un-kiss me, and un-tellmecutestuff. Maybe that would un-break my heart. Maybe, but.
Despite the terrible way we ended things, I loved it. I loved every moment of this relationship and regret absolutely nothing. I loved the kisses and the touches and the conversations. I loved us. I loved you.
And I think I’d rather have my heart broken and fixed than un-broken and perfect. What is life without the thrill of mortality anyway? What is love without the thrill of heart break?
Because after all, a heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved.
My heart is honored to have been loved by you.
Thank you, boy