An Open Letter to the Guy Who Got Away

An Open Letter to the Guy Who Got Away

I'm still here.
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Dear my once "once upon a time",

It's been a while since you've been gone. They tell me that this is supposed to get easier each day. They tell me that if we were supposed to be together, we would be. They tell me that I'm stronger than this. They don't know what they're talking about.

I wish I could agree with them. I wish I could say that I've gotten a little bit better with understanding that you're gone. I wish I was better off without you. But I'm not.

I still wake up every day reaching for your touch. I dream every night that you'll come back. I ache to rewind time to a point before everything got so difficult between us. I long to take back that very moment before you walked out. I want to take back the words that flew out of my mouth and broke your heart, and forget about the ones you said.

The thing that hurts the worst is that there was once a "once upon a time" fairytale romance between us that put others to shame. We were beautiful, we were in love, we were happy. We were two kids who innocently wanted to be together; then the world made us grow up.

We grew apart in such a short period of time; it was like one day you were here, the next you were gone. Every cliche saying about losing love came true. I never thought I would live a daily nightmare filled with regret from losing you.

I can't help but think about all of our long talks, the heart to hearts, the passion between us. I can't help but think of all of those times we leaned on each other for comfort, how many times you've helped me more than I could ever help myself.

I've been playing around with the idea of moving on, but every time I try, I see you. I couldn't imagine feeling the way you made me feel with anyone else. Our memories, our dreams, our plans; they surround me. They haunt me. You haunt me. We haunt me.

If I could go back and change everything, I would. If I could go back and stop us from letting it get to this point, I would.
They say that if you love something, to let it go and if it comes back to you, it's yours. They don't understand how much that hurts. I wish I could have known your worth without letting you go first.

I want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I put myself ahead of you and never treated you like the king you deserved to be treated as. I'm sorry that you put more into this that I didn't realize until it was too late. I'm sorry for being the one that didn't accept you and made you feel unwanted. I'm sorry for being everything that you thought I'd never be. I'm sorry for not showing you how much you meant to me. I'm sorry for not giving you the chance.

I know that there's no changing the past. I don't know how to make things better. I know that we can't fall into the same trap we have. I don't know how to prevent that from happening. I know this can be better. I know this can work. I know that I still love you. I know that I'm sorry.

Love,
Your hopeful "happily ever after"

Cover Image Credit: Warner Bros

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3 Reasons Why Step Dads Are Super Dads

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I often hear a lot of people complaining about their step-parents and wondering why they think that they have any authority over them. Although I know that everyone has different situations, I will be the first to admit that I am beyond blessed to have a step dad. Yep, I said it. My life wouldn't be the same that it is not without him in it. Let me tell you why I think step dads are the greatest things since sliced bread.

1. They will do anything for you, literally.

My stepdad has done any and every thing for me. From when I was little until now. He was and still is my go-to. If I was hungry, he would get me food. If something was broken, he would fix it. If I wanted something, he would normally always find a way to get it. He didn't spoil me (just sometimes), but he would make sure that I was always taken care of.

SEE ALSO: The Thank You That Step-Parents Deserve

2. Life lessons.

Yup, the tough one. My stepdad has taught me things that I would have never figured out on my own. He has stood beside me through every mistake. He has been there to pick me up when I am down. My stepdad is like the book of knowledge: crazy hormonal teenage edition. Boy problems? He would probably make me feel better. He just always seemed to know what to say. I think that the most important lesson that I have learned from my stepdad is: to never give up. My stepdad has been through three cycles of leukemia. He is now in remission, yay!! But, I never heard him complain. I never heard him worry and I never saw him feeling sorry for himself. Through you, I found strength.

3. He loved me as his own.

The big one, the one that may seem impossible to some step parents. My stepdad is not actually my stepdad, but rather my dad. I will never have enough words to explain how grateful I am for this man, which is why I am attempting to write this right now. It takes a special kind of human to love another as if they are their own. There had never been times where I didn't think that my dad wouldn't be there for me. It was like I always knew he would be. He introduces me as his daughter, and he is my dad. I wouldn't have it any other way. You were able to show me what family is.

So, dad... thanks. Thanks for being you. Thanks for being awesome. Thanks for being strong. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for loving my mom. Thanks for giving me a wonderful little sister. Thanks for being someone that I can count on. Thanks for being my dad.

I love you!

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Batter Up

Because someone needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat a woman.

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I have this memory from when I was younger,

I must have been six, maybe seven? An age

When you can remember, but not quite

Understand. I remember the landline

Ringing sometime in the middle

Of the night in my grandmother's small,

But adequate house. I had been sleeping,

Tucked under a shield of satin covers,

My grandmother next to me, blanketless,

And stiff, on the very edge of the queen mattress

Like she was anticipating some sort of disaster.

It wasn't the phone that pulled me from my sleep,

It was my grandmother's instant jerk, her eyes

Flipping open quicker than a light switch,

The mattress springing back up, adjusting

To the new lightness as she fled the room. My waking

Was soft like a song. Slow and humane.

My eyes adjusting to the dark, my ears absorbing the ringing,

My mind reminding itself that I was at my grandmother's house.


Then, the ringing stopped;

Abrupt, like a disarmed fire alarm.

It was just a drill, I thought.

But, then I heard the mumbling

From behind the door, panicked mumbling.

Rapid, like gunfire. My grandmother's Rs

Rolling down the hallway and under the door crack.

She only spoke Spanish when she was angry.


The call ended, my grandmother returned to the room,

Wrapped me in a blanket, and carried me into the night.

She buckled me into the backseat of her Toyota and said,

We were going to Auntie Mandy's house because someone

Needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat

A woman.


When we arrived at the house, we found the front door

Wide open, the house lights spilling out onto the porch.

A truck, I had seen once before, was parked a foot away

From the front door, aggressive. The truck had trampled

Over the dandelions and daisies, which lay wounded

In the front yard. A scene that begged for investigation.


My grandmother told me to stay put in my seat.

I watched as she walked to the back of the car, her normally pretty

Face turned straight, looked masculine. I watched as she pulled

Something wooden out of her trunk, then in her feline walk,

Approached the house. She turned to me, and I saw the

Baseball bat, immense in her female hands.


I slouched in my seat, the window above my head.

I never saw her go into the house.


I don't remember how long I sat,

Until the red and blue lights came.

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