“Of the few great men I’ve met in my life, you will be one of them.”
This is how I started my letter to him. We had just broken up not 24 hours ago and I can’t seem to fathom how one can have so many things to say and remain blank all at once.
They say the first stage of grief is denial – in which case, I am arguably so. There’s no nobility in the thought that I wish we could just pretend a little more. Let this continue to be my crutch because it is easier that way. Though that statement might not even be quintessentially true in all its form of escapism, like I said, I’m in denial.
So many things I wish for.
I wish that my love for you could supersede all of our differences. I wish you could fall in love with me again the way you once felt, however briefly. I wish to all the stars in the sky that we could forge ahead and make dreams come true. I wish to realize the life we had almost begun to mentally build together. It was beautiful.
And I tell you it was beautiful because I believe in this foreign matter of love. And I will keep looking at my reflection in the mirror – this girl – you fell in love didn’t you?
On so many plains of logic, I understand this makes sense. Myriads of life factors account for this. We will both live great lives and realize our full potential.
I stayed up till 1:30am last night putting the last touches on his Christmas gift that I had already finished making because I had all these plans for us when he came to visit. It was equally therapeutic and painful. I wrapped it up pretty and wrote all these tied index cards to explain why I made what I made. I will send it off today in the way that I had first imagined him to receive it when he would be here.
To him, I give you my very best until the end.