Dear ______,
People say that we find true love when we're least expecting it—that it's a whirlwind that sweeps you off of your feet and takes you away with it. Despite growing up as a hopeless romantic, the side of me that is an undeniable realist always doubted how valid that could actually be. As much I love corny romantic comedies, I know that life isn't one of them. I never expected that love could actually take my breath away—I never expected that it could consume me with every ounce of its power.
And yet, it did.
While it's true that we met through a dating app, I was never expecting anything to come from searching for romance online. I had this notion in the back of my mind that I could find someone to talk to for a little while—someone to temporarily fill the void… but in the end, I knew it wouldn't last. One day or another, inevitably, someone would lose interest and the contact would stop. Looking back now, I think I was only searching for companionship—as impermanent as it may have been. I expected the same of you; casual conversation that would go nowhere and eventually end.
When you expressed interest in meeting, I acted on a whim and agreed. In a different situation, I know that I wouldn't have. If I had been thinking more clearly—more rationally—I would have denied your offer, and we would have gone our separate ways. While sometimes I wish I had acted with my brain rather than my heart; there is still part of me that is so thankful to have met you. The love I had for you, and the love you had for me—albeit short-lived—was the greatest gift I could have ever asked for.
I have never met someone with whom I shared the emotional connection I did, and still do, with you. Nobody had ever known me in my rawest form, until I met you. I shared things with you that I had never shared with anyone else. Hell, I shared things with you that I've never been honest with myself about. I've always found it difficult to maintain a connection with someone, because I could never reveal my true self to them. I've spent my entire life extremely guarded. There have always been walls surrounding me that I previously thought impenetrable. Until you.
I'm no stranger to pain.
Pain is a feeling I'm far too familiar with. Often, I think that pain is a defining factor of who I am. It's one of the only things I've ever known, and one of the only things I ever expect to know. I never believed myself capable of being loved, or even deserving of it. I've always been the girl who was never enough—or the girl who was too much. There has always been some facet of my being, of who I am, that drives people away. After feeling that hopelessness for so long, you start to feed into it. I was that way when I met you—utterly hopeless. Then, somehow, you lit a tiny flame inside of my heart that eventually grew into hopefulness.
From the start, there was something between us that drew me to you. There was a kind of whisper beckoning me to you in the recesses of my heart and mind. The more we saw each other, the stronger and louder it grew. It was remarkable to me how truthful I could be with you, and how truthful you seemed to be able to be with me. Our conversations were natural—easier than any words could describe. The more I learned about you, no matter how troublesome or dark, the more real you became to me. When I looked at you, there was a beautiful glow encompassing you. A glow that nothing could blacken… not your flaws; your darkness; nor your misdeeds. The more you opened yourself to me, the more you glowed. To me, you were always more than the events that made up your past. You were complex, different shades of blossoming color. I knew, in my heart, that you were a good person who deserved so much more than you credited yourself for.
The openness we shared isn't something I expect I will be able to find again. Deep within the cell of my heart, I know there will never be another like you. There will never be another person to whom I'm so drawn—to whom I so viscerally love.
I was taken aback the moment I realized just how deeply in love with you I was. It came suddenly, and it burned hot—it terrified me. I had loved before, but never to such a degree—never in such a way. I wasn't sure how to present myself; I wasn't sure what to think, or where to go from there. I tried to stifle it as best I could, at least until I knew you were ready to bear the weight of it. Looking back, I realize now that I burdened you with it far too soon. For that, I am deeply sorry. Perhaps, if I had continued to contain it, I would still feel your love.
Our duration together will always hold a special place in my heart. You made me feel as though I could be deserving of love; that someone could handle my intensity, and return it. You made me feel wanted; you made me feel beautiful; you made me feel funny and intelligent… but above all, you made me feel loved. Nobody else has touched my heart in the way that you have.
That is both a blessing and a curse.
I never believed in fate, in soul mates, or in true love until I met you.
The moments we shared, as menial as they may have seemed, were monumental to me. Even still, I hold each and every one of those moments so close to heart. They were made up of more than just words—they were laughs, yells, smiles, tears, happiness, anger, passion… love. I can't explain the hurt and emptiness that I feel now that things have ended. I know that, for such a short time, things were such a mess. Yet, I can't help but feel that what we have is meant to be—that it's meant to last. Though, maybe it happened at the wrong time. Maybe I didn't come to you at the right time, but I can't ignore the screaming in my heart that tells me that it, one day, is supposed to happen.
One memory that is quite vivid is when we were sharing our confusion as to why we're alive. The conversation was sparked because I played "Ghost" by Badflower on Spotify. I told you that the song was near and dear to me, because it struck so close to home. Then the line came on, "Maybe I'm alive 'cause I didn't really wanna die."
You listened to it, turned to me, and said, "Maybe I'm alive because I was meant to meet you."
I think part of the reason that has been at the forefront of my mind is because I believe that could be true. As pathetic as it may sound, or make me seem, you helped me believe in fate and universal divinity. You helped me believe that there is something more out there—something deeper, that has so much more meaning than I would have ever thought.
Someday, somehow—I believe we'll be together again. I believe that, because I believe you're the fabled "one." I came to this revelation while I was far too emotional and watching The Perfect Date on Netflix. There was a scene that really stuck out to me. The protagonist of the film is taking a walk through the park with an eldering woman. They were talking about love, and how you know when you've found "the one."
The woman turned to the protagonist, Brooks, and said: "You wanna know you can tell if you're meant to be with someone? It's simple. Sit and have a conversation. Some people, when you talk to them, it's like trying to listen to classical music on a radio with no antenna. You can push that dial back and forth all you want, but you only get static… but when you're meant to be with someone, and they truly are the one, you just sit—start talking—and a Beethoven sonata will begin to play."
Immediately, I thought of you. I thought of the ease behind our conversations—thought of how naturally sharing despair seemed to come in a place where it would generally be taxing. I realized that, with everyone else, it was merely static. With you, it was Beethoven sonata.
For the moment, I don't hold your heart. Maybe I never will again, but be something tells me—as much as it could be misguided hope—that we'll be together again.
One day, I hope to hold your heart again.
For now, it's okay that you hold mine.
Yours truly,
Me.
