Life is duller without you.
It feels a little more empty. If that makes sense. Less young and free.
I feel like a more serious version of me. I wasn’t sure I could do every day without you. Seems like I can. These past few days have been manageable. The waves of sadness don’t overwhelm me for long. I hope you can say the same on your end of the world.
I’m not trying to get over you. Yet.
But, I know I’ll have to one day. In my mind I fight warlike battles with myself; driving back the onslaught of self pity and remorse for doing the right thing.
One should never regret doing the right thing.
That’s the one thing that keeps me going is knowing with all my heart that we’re doing the right thing. I want to see you. I fight myself constantly, trying to stave off wild plans of picking up, and flying to wherever you are. I say that in a completely non-psycho, stalker way.
I wish I could reach out and touch you. I keep trying to validate us. Make this into more than some title-less, emotional fling between friends.
Maybe, somehow, convince myself that our time together was real. More real than a year’s worth of lost text messages, phone calls, video wars and ridiculous selfies.
Whatever we were, whatever it was, it felt real.
You sank deep into my heart and buried yourself in its frame like the smell of years of fresh bread and shortbread cookies, baked warmly into your mom’s kitchen walls.
What I really want to do is shake my fist at our timing and blame God. It seems like it’s not in His plan for us to ever work out, and that makes me simultaneously angry and sad. Because you are something amazing. It seems so unfair of Him to put something so wonderful in the world… so marvelous in my path, and ask me to turn the other way. To leave it alone.
So much for that “woman full of faith,” you liked so much, huh?
Please don’t respond to me.
I know I’m making things worse by adding more words. I’m only writing because if I didn’t share, one more time, how I felt about you, I would about burst.
Speaking of bursting, I had never known the kind of daily bursting happiness I felt when I was “yours.”
I never knew a girl could feel like that for days at a time.
I had never felt so lucky. So sure. So worthy of good things. For a little while, you were my guy.
And a guy like you was always the dream. You were always the dream.
I may have always been just an odd, eccentric, on-again, off-again somewhat friend to you. But to me, you were always something else. Something incredible. Something I didn’t want to get too close to, but for some reason, also couldn’t let out of my sight.
I told you, once, that sometimes I am tempted to bring these beautiful, interesting souls in for the closest of looks.
To admire. To observe. To maybe even, love.
At least for a little while.
Then I am forced to put them away, and out of my sight, in order to remind myself that I can live without them.
Just know that I would have never let you put us away, if I wasn’t sure that it was the best thing for the both of us. Thank you again for making the hard calls.
It is a perfect example of why I let myself get so wildly mad over you in the first place.
I miss you.
Today, until the next time. And every day in between.
With whatever is left of my heart,
P.S. You were always my favorite P.S.