I write about you, not him. After all this time. And I probably will forever. I love him as well and I‘m doing fine. I‘ve always been fine eventually. Maybe it‘s even scarier that I think of you while I‘m fine as well. I chose him for my future little girl and the present one in me. I chose him for a peaceful home. But my stupid heart wouldn‘t shut up about you. This too shall pass I keep telling myself. But will it? Pass, I mean. Because it never has from the moment I met you. I pray for a day when you‘re not tatted on my brain anymore. I still pray for you and your well-being and healing.
You once wrote to me that maybe the best love stories are the ones that never happen, otherwise nobody would have the sorrow to put them into words. I say the best love stories are the ones with a tragic ending. And the most tragic love stories are the reckless ones.
And we, my love, we were so reckless with each other and our love.
I always thought a love like ours would only exist in fiction, in tragic movies or my favorite novels. I thought a love like ours only lived in my darkest fantasies and award-winning films - that kind of infinite surrender, enormous fight and will-power, the type of memories we created to last for a lifetime.
I wish I would have gone to Paris with you. I wish our story was not the end of me on this Earth or the end of my hope for a life full of passion. I wish I could learn how to live in a world after you, after us. But this kind of love leaves a hole so big and so many scattered ashes in the wind, that not even divine grace could ever put them back together.
There‘s no life after a love like ours. I truly believe this is the peak of a human‘s experience. We were the story of a lifetime. We shared the love of a lifetime. And after all these years, I finally understand the ending of my favorite book, „L’invitation a’ la valse“, I finally get why she tried to be without him but ended up giving up on life.
I never thought I could love unconditionally, never was one to believe in, nor offer no matter whats. There are no no matter whats in a society marked by consumerism and capitalism. Yet right there, in the middle of all of it, there was us. With a spark in our eyes and a fire in our hearts that could move the Earth, not giving up no matter what. Until we did.
I left so that you wouldn‘t become the end of me. Three months later, I realize that you were the end of me anyway, no matter what. At least it was worth it. At least I loved and lost and hurt forever, with all my heart. Nobody will ever take away from me.
I remember you wrote about me saying „Don‘t let me go, I don‘t think I‘ll ever be able to forgive you if you did.“
And you were right.