I met you in paradise, on one of the best vacations of my life. We shared the perfect, romantic summer fling. I had never experienced one of these before because, as you know, I had been in a serious, committed relationship for five years. I had been with my boyfriend since the tender age of sixteen. So the idea of a “summer fling” was a foreign concept to me, one I had only learned about by watching romantic movies.
You were older. You had a full-time career, something I was attracted to. You were easy to talk to. You appreciated art and film. You were handsome, alluring even. You made me giggle like a child. And you were fun! There was no heaviness, just the ease and pure enjoyment of your company. No wonder I already started to fall for you. We met on a whim. You asked why I was on this vacation and I told you it was to celebrate my recently single life and to nurse a broken heart. You immediately related because you had been in a similar position the previous year. You sought after me and it felt good to be wanted. I hadn’t felt that way in a while after I was told that I was no longer a part of my previous partner's future plans. You understood the hurt. I was in a vulnerable place. You showed me that you could be vulnerable, and a man who can do that is rare.
We kept meeting throughout the week. Each day the want to see you grew more and more. I loved the thrill of hoping I would see you by the pool deck or hoping that you would ask me to get a drink after dinner, and you did. We fell asleep lying on the top deck, admiring the glitter of the Caribbean night sky. I felt like I was in a movie. I didn’t mind being cold from the chill of the wind or uncomfortable lying on plastic grass. I was with you and I felt happy.
I started noticing the light feelings of early love encroaching. This wasn’t good, because where could this fling go? You lived far away and I had sworn off of long-distance relationships. I couldn’t take a heart hurting over two people.
Our time together in our own little oasis soon ended and we said goodbyes, hoping to cross paths again in the future. My heart ached. I hated how much I had already wanted you and needed you.
We talked for a while after but now we don’t talk anymore. We watch each other’s stories, silently observing from afar through social media. Sometimes I still miss you, really badly. But I fight the urge to message you because I know myself and the last thing I need is to continue to fall harder for you. This is why I don’t talk to you anymore. Because I can’t. I’m sure you stopped talking because you got busy with life and realized that this couldn’t go anywhere, which is fair. I just want you to know that I would love to spend more time with you, but I must force myself not to. Because I must learn to be on my own. I want to end the wanting and needing.
I don’t care if you read this. A part of me wants you to, so you know how special you were to me even after only seven days. A part of me is scared of expressing this because it was only seven days and I already felt that strongly for you. I’ve heard that there is always something extraordinary and special about the second person you begin to fall for after your first love or first heartbreak. This experience has confirmed that notion for me.
I told you throughout the trip that I wanted to be bold. So, this is me trying to be bold. Perhaps you will see this and perhaps you won’t. But just know that you were important. Meeting you was wonderful. I felt blissful and carefree which was a positive change for my life in that moment. And you have been a learning lesson for me. I’ve learned to find the strength to say goodbye to you because I know wanting you isn't good for me.
So thank you.
Sincerely,The girl you met in the hot tub