You don’t even have to do anything with this letter. You can ignore it, delete it, never read it.
Today is the last day that any vestige of any feelings I have over you is in my system. Anger, disgust, hate, longing, and love—today smoking in my aunt’s garage and watching their dogs watch me, I realized that I don’t even feel regret over what we had. I’m not trying to rehash anything here, just that I thought it would be appropriate to write this down to make it more tangible—especially for myself.
I heard you have someone new, and I really am happy for you. The day you sent me that e-mail was that day my landlady got evicted from her house, that day, I went home from work realizing the same thing: I had never loved you, truly. I was in turmoil then, I was frantic, they had left the house and everything except my things were gone. The house was empty, and I had only time to lock my things in a room with a padlock, fearing that their neighbors who were pillaging the house for any leftover junk would take my things and I would be possession-less, homeless, and more lost than I ever was. I was scared that the stash of drugs in my bags would be found out, that my clothes would disappear, everything gone. When I saw your e-mail, I went to delete it, but felt I had to read it still, at least this one, this one last note. I read it, and you said exactly what I had been thinking that morning. I never loved you. I say this without bitterness, without any reason to make you feel bad or anything. I realized that the only reason I had taken you was because I have been lonely for the longest time. I refused, before meeting you, to hook-up randomly or to even casually date. Now I’m sort of back to that—the philosophy behind it for me has been that of the hermit, where the deprivation of base wants would enlighten me, and if the universe or whatever force out there allowed it, the person who would love me. True enough, you appeared—the signs for me were everywhere, and I, being superstitious and new aged still, I believed at that time that you were who I was destined to be with.
You came after the wish, the question, our stars were aligned and when I met you I was smitten. But also I knew we were going to break each other’s heart with the intensity of a forest fire. I knew we would leave only ashes on each other, but I had hoped to circumvent that. I hoped against all hope that love would triumph and at the end of the day, the ideals would shine the light on everything.
I never agreed with a lot of what you had to say, or what you wanted to do. When you asked to marry me, I didn’t want to—you were right, I said yes only to keep you from what I thought was sinking. Only agreed because I still hoped it could be fixed. I took for granted that because you had let me in, I could see that you could be weak, and I percieved you as someone I could help save as well. I took the ring back from Aiel and sold it, it wasn’t worth much, and even then I knew it was a perfect metaphor for this: all flashes, no lasting worth. We were like the forest fires, we started strong, only to disappear as quick, leaving behind trails of damage.
I felt choked most of the time, always feeling like I had to agree, and this was not your fault. More of it was mine, I couldn’t say no because I didn’t want to end up chipping a part of you and crushing it.
Despite all of this non-loving I have realized, I do want to say that I did feel something for you, a something akin to love, but not entirely it.
Now I don’t feel bitterness or rage, or disgust at what we have gone through. I will always be sad, no doubt about that, this sadness is embedded in my genes, my whole family has been dealing with a heartbreaking sadness throughout the decades I now realize, and this is where I get it from. This is an heirloom from my blood. But when we were together I wanted to let you know that you did make me happy, forget that life is always going to be difficult and I could laugh for a short while, full and unworried.
I want to thank you for that sunrise you shared with me, for food cooked and shelter sought, for conversations and putting up with the lameness of who I am. Thanks for the joy at random moments, the cigarettes you shared with me, the alcohol, the cuddling even though you weren’t a cuddle person, the assumed loyalty at one point, the devotion and the words, the cake and the wine, the gifts and the money (I can still pay you back if you want. I have calculated that I owe you around 3000 to 4000 php), the sleeping and the showers, the kisses and the poetry.
You made me happy and made me realize that I could be loved. I would like to believe that. I would like to believe that only you saw me as beautiful, as pure as possible, and believed in who I am and what I could do—that kind is something we rarely find. I want you to know that I do believe in you, despite your arrogance and ego, I do believe that you are capable of nobler things, whichever and whatever it may be.
I am sorry for asking you to wait, when I knew you really wouldn’t, for pulling you for six months and maybe more into believing I could be okay. You could never have saved me, I don’t think anyone can, not even myself, but I’d like to think you tried, and that you tried your damndest. Thank you. Thanks for wanting to take photographs of me when no one really does, for noticing me when all I have ever aspired to was disappearing. Thank you for making me stay here, and hang on for a while. You said that you weren’t someone I could just learn something from, but the truth is that is what you were.
I am sorry for betrayals and sins I did behind your back that you never knew, never know until now, sorry for making you believe me when I have always been unbelievable. Sorry for making you put up with my bullshit and expecting things from you. Sorry for pushing you. Sorry for making you feel unwanted when you tried to take me back. I’m sorry. I never wanted you back the first time I asked for the split, I had only wanted to keep us going until a year. I am glad it is over, that the lies to myself and to you are done with. I’m sorry that I still lied to you even when I tried my best not to.
Thank you for the memories. I never kept photos of us, the only reminder I have is that time capsule I will open five years from now, and realize how much I have grown and lost since 3rd year college. I am glad. It is better to keep you as a memory than a tangible being. Who you are now is not the boy I deigned to be with. You are much much different now, so when I saw you I did not feel heartaches over you because I knew that already, and I still know now. It has taken a while to get over the hurt you have left, but now I am okay.
I am glad to know you have bounced back faster, and that you are living your life the way you want to.
Last Sunday I was walking out by your street after having dropped by an artist-friend who lives nearby, returned his books and umbrella from the night’s drinking, and I saw your father sweeping water out your door. I remember when he had threatened me and I was strangely unable to determine what to think feel or do. Now I’m not even anything to him anymore, and that is okay. When we were together I had hoped to be something good for you, so that your mother and father could like me and accept you for who you are and it would all be okay. But then I ended up doing otherwise. This I did not intend.
I almost killed myself when I left you, I lost every sense of proportion and went to medications and tonics to get the day done. You will never have an idea of the hell it was. Only Ricci, the woman you disliked so much, knew everything. The truth is she spoke truth. She understood that I was lying to myself the whole time about my feelings for you, I just wanted to let you know that.
Other than your drastic actions, and your extremist thoughts, you do have a direction, only one that isn’t fully there yet. Thank you for having shown me my darker side all over again, and for teaching me how hurt can change lives more, and how at rock-bottom, I have to try to build the way out all over again.
I hope you show your new lover the things you have shown me, or even better, more new things. You have a lot to see and a lot to show as well. Despite my fear of you and distance, I can say that you are still a beautiful person at your very core, that you have a kindness that drew me to you.
I will never forget that kindness. I will forget everything else one day, every memory, but the kindness, I won’t.
I promised you forever and I’m sorry for breaking that vow.
I am glad you are doing better than I am.