Monday, 27 November 2017

A Letter To A Past Lover

Dear Past Lover, 

I hate to call you "ex". And in fact I avoid it at every possible cost. After all we've ever been through, to identify you as a two letter word that to so many others hold such negative connotation to, is so wrong. Despite what you may think of me, you will always be a friend, a lover, an individual who I will value, always. 

I still call you my boyfriend, I still talk about you, the times we've shared. So many of my memories revolve around you. I catch myself saying "Oh! My boyfriend took me there once" or "My boyfriend makes a mean steak and chips". I walk into shops and see things that you'd like, I go to Prezzo and know exactly what you'd choose off the menu and it brings me the most over-whelming sense of happiness and sadness. I go out and wander around antique shops mentally noting the things you would have picked up or pointed out. Sitting in pubs knowing you would have complained about the way the wooden tables had been made, or that you liked the bar stools and would say we would have some like that when we got our own place.  

I intended on that you know. Having our own place. I didn't plan on things being the way they are now. This may have been my decision, but I need you to know it was not one that I made easily. You can bet your bottom dollar I have been hurting just as much as you, if not more. Being the cause for you pain, and knowing that attempting to comfort you will only make it more excruciating for you is unbearable. To have spoken to you every day for the past three years and to have taken it for granted, and now, to only receive the odd text or odd phone call full of resentment and bitterness... 

You may feel as if I am not bothered, that I haven't bothered to call, or text... truth is I didn't think you'd want to hear from me. All I wanted to do was pick up the phone and hear your voice, but that's selfish. My necessities are no way near as important as yours, so I put down the phone, and pick up the drink. The same rum we used to drink, lying in bed on a Friday night, talking crap and listening to records. That very same rum that brought me so much happiness with you, is now numbing the pain of you. You are everywhere in my life, even when you are absent. Etched into the tiniest of details. 

Letting you go was the hardest things I have ever had to do. I did not do it because I no longer love you - and I think that is the hardest part. I still love you. And I always will. It does not matter how much you may have hurt me. You're my best friend. One of the most important people in my life. But sometimes, life gets in the way, and there comes a time when you have to realise that not everything is made to last and time changes people. 

I understand why you can't bear to talk to me. But you should know that as much as it hurts, I respect the fact you may need to shut me out to move on. We are both only human, and there are things we should not have done, and there are things we could have done better. Perhaps we were to be a lesson to one another, a painful, passionate lesson. Full of love and sadness. 

I hope that one day, when you are standing at the end of the aisle, and the love of your life is walking towards you, that you will thank me. For the memories we had, and for letting you go. And I hope they bring you all the happiness that you gave me. I wish you no ill fortune, in fact I wish you all the best and happiness in the world. I hold no grudge against you. For anything. And perhaps I should, maybe I should have some bitterness towards you, yet I have none.  

I desperately want you to know that I will always love you. And that if you ever need me, no matter what it is, what time it is, where ever I am - I'll always be there. 

Love always, 
Your Frosty.   

No comments:

Post a Comment