This is not my story, however it is a beautiful story that deserved to be said 🙂
Hello, it’s me. I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet
Okay, I am exaggerating, I know it hasn’t been years since we last saw each other. Or since we broke up. We actually met shortly after and that was the last time we saw. We spoke on the phone after briefly about some concert tickets. But nothing more. But I still wonder if we are going to meet again. What are we going to tell each other if that happens? Is it going to be awkward? Is it going to be like we used to be friends and haven’t met in a while? How?
The thing is, J, that I miss you. I’ve always missed you. I’m thinking about you every day. Every single day. I saw it as a stupid thing, that I couldn’t explain myself why am I still thinking about you. Why am I still dreaming about you. Luckily, I had my friends next to me. Not geographically, but close to my heart. They’ve been the ones listening to me ranting about everything for hours on the phone. But I moved on. I’m happy. I think you know that I moved to another country. I love my new job and I love the opportunities I’m being offered. My life has somehow changed for the better. I never felt lonely here even though I don’t have many friends.
But what am I doing? Enough about me. This is a letter to you. About us. About the most beautiful relationship I’ve ever had. With ups and downs, with fights and the most beautiful moments someone could give me.
We met on Tinder and been chatting there for over a month. At first, when I saw your pictures, I didn’t think you would ever meet me. Or that you would ever like me. We stopped talking for some time because my friend was visiting London and decided to spend time with her. But we reconnected after. We both lived in zone 5, you in the west, myself in the east. Remember that we planned on moving closer to city centre? You were supposed to move with your friend and I wanted to move on my own. Have you managed to move from there meanwhile?
We had three dates in a week, right before you left for your holidays. You said that was the most dates you ever had with someone from Tinder. We first met at Marble Arch. You had a burgundy hoodie from H&M on you. We tried to find each other and it took us a while. You kept on saying that your hoodie was red and I was looking for someone with an intense red colour. But we found each other. We went to Carluccio’s and had some drinks. Do you remember how much time we spent there? About six or seven hours. We had an amazing time. We laughed. I liked you. And I assume you liked me too. At the end of our second date I asked you, in the middle of the tube station: “You want to kiss me, don’t you?” And you blushed and giggled like a teenager. But we didn’t kiss. We saved that for our third date when we met after you finished work and went to your place. Then you left to the airport. I honestly didn’t know if you wanted to meet after or not, but I knew I wanted to. I wanted to date you and start a relationship with you even though I said that I didn’t want any. I remember you texting me every time you had wifi. Even if you were having breakfast, lunch or dinner with your family. You were giving me the attention I wanted. But apparently I wasn’t the only one you’ve been texting. I found that out later.
We’ve truly had some amazing dates. It was the summer I wanted and I had it. We couldn’t meet often at first because of your busy schedule and I wasn’t happy with that. But it was better than nothing I guess. But on one of our dates I remember you called me Superman because I had a Superman t-shirt on. I loved it. You used to call me your man too. I felt so important and so connected to you when you were calling me “my man”. Yours. Nobody else’s. But what went wrong? I mostly remember the nice moments. And I can’t remember the reasons why we were arguing so often. Was I too possessive? Might have been this. I know sometimes my behaviour was like a child’s. I was moody and there was always something that could have been better. I was reproaching you that you never were the bigger person in our arguments. You never understood me and you’ve always blamed me. “You were always right.” I guess it was my fault too that I didn’t let the relationship flow naturally.
Do you remember when you took me to meet your family? I was on cloud nine. Nervous, panicked. I wanted to buy them some gifts and you didn’t let me to. That was the first time someone took me home and presented me as their partner. And since then I fell in love with you more and more.
I loved you so much that I didn’t care about the money I spent on spoiling you. I just wanted this to be your best relationship. I wanted to beat each and every of your exes. I wanted to be the one. Your one and only. But I was afraid that you’d take all these things for granted because you never gave much back. You denied that. You loved me, the person, not the things that I was doing for you. Or at least that’s what you said back then.
How are you, J? Are you thinking about me from time to time? I think about you every day. Because I love you. And I always did. Even after I found out that you were still talking to your ex. Even after I found the messages you were sending each other, which weren’t just friendly or innocent as you thought they were. You were still thinking about him. As a friend, you said. But it wasn’t only that. I have decided back then to not give up on you because you were everything I ever wanted. And you were there, in my bed. Even if all my friends told me to break up with you because you have been sexting with your ex, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to let you go. But nothing was the same after that.
I don’t remember exactly when I decided to take you home with me to meet my friends and visit my home country. But I do remember we had a big argument two weeks before our flights were scheduled. I begged you to not break up, to wait and see how these two weeks are going because we had planned this holiday in advance. And luckily, for two weeks our relationship was fine. Our holiday was amazing too. We visited some cities and had our peace. The relationship was at its best and you said that you loved how was I feeling and behaving in that week. But, of course, we argued again. And again it was because of your ex. How could he have been so present in our life when you haven’t seen him in a year. I assume it was because of my paranoia. That holiday was the best I ever had so far. I thought that our relationship was never going to end, that we were stronger and more connected than ever. Sometimes I’m looking at the pictures and I miss you even more. I miss your face, your body, your voice, those big blue eyes and your blonde hair. I miss how our bodies felt when we were touching each other. I miss how perfect we seemed from the outside, like we were made for each other.
You were so excited about Christmas. You told me it was your favourite holiday. We gave each other some nice presents. I really appreciated how you remembered that I wanted that gadget and all the effort you put in finding the best one. You appreciated my personalised present too. It was something you needed and I thought it would remind you always of me. It was the best Christmas ever with your family. I felt good, like I was part of the family. I can’t put my appreciation for your family into words. We wore Christmas jumpers and had a nice family dinner. Everything was merry and I loved the joyfulness you were spreading. But the unavoidable happened again and we argued. This was the biggest fight we have ever had. I wanted to leave back home, we shouted at each other on the streets. You have no idea how much do I regret that. And it was for a stupid reason too. We made up after but the relationship was falling apart.
Not long after you decided to break up. Again, I begged you not to. That it would be different, that I would never do the same again, and that our relationship could go forward. But you were decided to do this. Now that I’m looking back, you did the right right thing, both for you and for me. I was just lying to myself that the relationship could work. And I did this all the time. But the truth is that I never wanted to lose you. I’m sad it ended, I’m sad we are not talking to each other anymore or that I don’t have you in my life. It did hurt me when you didn’t wish me happy birthday and that you didn’t want to keep in touch after. But maybe it is for the best. Maybe we will meet again. Maybe it will not be awkward. Maybe we will act like grownups this time. Maybe we will enjoy hearing each other’s stories. Maybe you still think about me or about us. Maybe you miss me or not. But one thing is sure, I still love you.
I hope you’re well,
P.S. There were a lot more beautiful things to write about, but they will always be in mind and in my heart.
P.P.S. Do you remember when you used to tease me on the street by touching me or holding my hand because I was shy and didn’t like public displayed affection on the way to Strawberry Hill House? Do you remember when you first said you loved me by mistake in Brighton? Do you remember when we had breakfast on the 40th floor and that whole weekend? Do you remember our walks in Hampstead Heath or Richmond Park or Virginia Water? Do you remember when I first brought you a coffee at work because you said you were tired? Do you remember when we were watching horror films and I was protecting you? Do you remember? Because I do.