2007-10-12
Letter.
It's funny how things can change so much in the course of one year; or in this case, less than half a year.
It was as though we decided to drift apart simultaneously; almost as if we had discussed it with each other and put it to task. I tried to grasp you back, I really did, and I suppose I can just pretend that you did too, though for that I can never be sure.
I don't deny missing you, those times when it was just you and me and the whole world before us, and all the plans we always set out before us but never carried out. I miss those memories, when I could talk to you about anything and everything, when we laughed without reason, when I could just stand next to you, without speaking, and still have a conversation with you.
I miss that, you know? And I cannot run away from the fact that it hurt, that for a point of time I would have done anything to go back in time, even if it was just for a minute, just to hold some wacky conversation with you, without measured words, without awkward pauses, without sophisticated vocabulary.
You've changed and I have. We could get to know each other all over again but that would just hurt even more, since I used to know that you would have preferred to stay home and watch movies than go out shopping, that we were supposed to go on a complete food spree and kill ourselves eating, that if I wanted to cry I could have called you and you would have listened to the sound of my crying for hours and hours. We've grown up. Not that much, but enough to change. Not for better, not for worse.
You moved on faster than I did. You began smiling sooner, crazy-ing, running everywhere. I couldn't bring myself to move on because yes, I dislike change and I wanted us back. Not you and me, but us. But I suppose it was inevitable, anyhow. Those promises ended up swept away. Not forgotten but lost. It's a waste, slightly regretful when I think of all those plans we made together. But I suppose it's a little bit too late to go chasing after them now, because I know that I no longer mean what I used to mean to you. We're you and me now.
I'm writing this to let you know that I am going to let go. You're happy now, and I think it's my turn to open the door and walk into the light. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life pining. I'm going to live now.
Thank you for everything we've done together, all the good and bad times, and everything in between. Thank you for the memories.
I wish you the best of luck.
I'm letting your hand go now, okay? I'm letting go.
abstracity at 3:51 p.m.