Letting Go

My head rests on my pillow, my heart rests in your eyes. You are so beautiful, I can’t believe you ever chose me. Your brown eyes glisten with a form of magic. I can’t explain it, but whenever you look at me, I feel seen. I feel safe, like I’ve finally found my home. You’re the first woman I’ve ever felt comfortable maintaining eye contact with. With you, it feels… right? That’s why it hurts.

I close my eyes to stop the tears, but it doesn’t work. I reopen them to blurred vision and blink away the image of you. I still can’t believe you are gone. I breathe in your scent that still rests on my pillow. Eager to recapture the feeling of the two of us together. In my bed. In my life. I stop myself mid-inhale, afraid of using up all your scent. I’m not ready to lose you all over again.

I roll over to face away from the memory of you and catch sight of your naked bottom peaking out from under my t-shirt. The one I haven’t worn since you left. A favourite t-shirt that I’ll likely never wear again. The way it rises over your cheeks and rests there as they bounce while you walk. Hypnotic. You weren’t even trying to be sexy, and it’s still the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

The way you broke into my life and cracked open my shell has left me bleeding. My soul longs to discover what we could have been. I have never allowed myself to feel that vulnerable around anyone before, but you gave me a level of hope and trust that I thought I’d never feel. That’s why it hurt all the more when you left.

I had heard of love bombing, but I never thought I’d be a victim. You seduced me with your desire to know me. I dropped my guard to your compassion, and then your body obliterated my defences. You sealed my fate with your lips. Those big, beautiful, red lips that I’ll never not see. I was unprepared to meet you, and now underprepared for letting you go. You devastated my heart, and now I’m lost in your wake. Unsure of who I am without you or what I’m supposed to be doing, anymore.

A part of me has realised that I’ve been holding myself back from love. Carrying around these walls that kept it at arms’ length, but a part of me wonders if I would have ever survived this long if I had felt more heartbreak like the one you gave me. It felt incredible to love, but crushing to lose.

I get out of bed and wash my face in the basin. I catch another memory of you in the mirror. Do you remember when you kissed me, removed my glasses from my face and lifted my shirt over my head? Do you remember pulling me into the shower and refreshing my soul?

...Do you still think of me?

...Do you still remember me?

Because you are all that I can think of. Everything reminds me of you. I love it and hate it at the same time. It feels strange to let go of someone you never wanted to leave. Not being able to talk to you and share my news. To ask about your day. It pains me that I won’t be a part of your life anymore. That I’ll never know why. It’s hard to say goodbye. I’ve done it before, but not like this. Losing a life is hard, but eventually it makes sense. But losing a love that eventually goes on to love someone else. That’s something else. That’s cruel? How am I to feel such longing for someone who doesn’t want me back? Why does this feeling even exist? What is its purpose? I guess that’s my journey now.

I linger in the doorway, where I’m reminded of the image of you leaving, of wanting to say something, but talking myself out of it. It hurts that you’ll never know... but I didn’t want you to go. I wanted to call out to you. To tell you not to leave, but to stay. To figure it out and find a way. But I didn’t. I just let you leave, and you did.

One day, maybe soon, I will no longer be able to conjure such vivid memories of you. But for now, I will hold onto them no matter how much they hurt me. The truth is, I’m not sure I will ever get over you.

.....

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