I remember you bursting into my life like a hurricane and quickly becoming the kind of drizzle that stays steady through the week keeping soft, sweet company. In the morning, we’d open the windows, and it would always be such a beautiful day. Cold, sunny days. My favorite kind of weather. Beautiful days during which something even better bloomed between us. I remember laughter, so much laughter. Companionship that I felt never before and never since.
I want to use this space to let the softness speak louder than the sticks and stones we found ourselves throwing the last time we spoke. It’s silly, that we let something tender end in wildfire. Though I suppose that’s the fate of most tender things, as unfortunate as that is.
June was sickeningly happy in the most tender of ways. It’s haunted me, how simply and effortlessly happy I was. It’s not a feeling that comes easy, not to me. You brought a lot of effortless joy into my life, and I’m trying, through gritted teeth, to hold onto what happened between us as a good thing, even though it didn’t work out. Because it was a good thing, while it lasted. And it wasn’t supposed to last any longer, I know that much. But the fairytale world was beautiful while we were in it. Boy, it was magnificent. And I would’ve stayed there forever if it wasn’t for reality crashing through.
It doesn’t matter that the end was bitter, the journey was sweet enough. I didn’t want it to end in the way it did. Still wish it hadn’t. I wish it had ended in well-wishes and tender goodbyes. I still feel guilty a month later, and I don’t know when the guilt’s going away. I tend to beat myself down. The last time we spoke you were a different person entirely, and that’s why I’d rather cut off my hand than reach for you again. I’ve already been in the receiving end of such callousness and suffice to say I learned not to stick around for more. You’re not who I thought you were, and I suppose that’s alright. That’s life.
And I address this to you, even though you’ll never read it. But I hope you do. I hope you know I think of you softly, and I’m sorry for the bitter parts. We’re not meant for each other, but it was beautiful while we thought we were. And maybe that’s enough.
unpleasant conversations 