A Year later
A beautiful featured post by Katie Wilhelm
I’ve been writing about you for over a year now. I haven’t seen you in that long so I guess my way of keeping you alive is through writing about you. So that’s what I’ve had to do. This is a letter for you but also for me.
I haven’t been able to love anyone since you. And believe me, I have tried, on more than one occasion. I have tried to erase your memory and swap it with the sweet way he can see straight into my soul. I just kept hoping that a day would come where I allow myself to be overcome in the haze of him so much so that I forget you even exist.
All I wanted was to replace your words of passion with his gentle melodies, to hear the symphony of new beginnings rather than the haunting eulogy of lost love. I wanted to wake in the morning to the temperate rasp of his voice instead of this overwhelming silence my life has been engulfed in.
But I haven’t had that day and I don’t know if I ever will. I think it is more than safe to say that I’m not over you. And I know it has been over a year and our lives are in two different directions but I guess what I want you to know is that no one has been able to meet the standard of love that you have set for me. So how can I be over the person who taught me what love is? How can I move on from something that made me feel alive, gave me purpose and introduced me to all of life’s beautiful colors?
You are not the smartest man I could ever be with, or the most handsome or even the sweetest. But you have what I have always wanted. You know how to be a best friend and that is all I’ve ever needed in a relationship. You knew how to make fun of my little quirks, you knew that I liked to feel human, not worshipped. You knew exactly how to treat me because you knew me better than anyone. We were best friends before anything else. And when I am lonely and craving your presence, I miss my friendship with you over everything else you were to me.
I can’t remember the last time I cried over you and I cannot tell you how wonderful that is. On one hand I see myself making strides towards healing. But at the same time I think I have refrained from crying over you because I have this tiny shred of hope lingering within my soul that one day we will find our way back to each other.
One day we will be exactly what we once were and I think that hope sparks my will to push through each day without tears. It helps me want to move on, succeed for myself and do the best that I can because deep down I am hoping that every move I make will lead me back to you. I can’t fool myself for much longer. Hope looms over every day of my life and there is no way to make it vanish.
I just want to be honest right now. So often, we are not honest people, with each other and more importantly with ourselves. And this is me being honest with myself. This is me admitting the pain I still feel every day when I wake up in the morning. This is me finally calling my own bullshit about being independent and happy. This is me accepting that I am not over it and that I may not get over it for a long time.
What you and I had is something that moved me to the point of exhaustion. The stakes had never been higher, my life never possessed so much beauty and the world never seemed so effortless than when you were by my side.
You and I was better than perfect; it was real. So I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over it, if I’ll ever be ready to let that all go.
So I guess I have no choice but to wait here; to live my life without you and hope that the future will either include me moving onto something better or you coming back to make the pain crumble, to make the tears evaporate into the foggy air of our love once more, to make me feel worth it again.
This is the truth. This is not exaggerated or dramatic. This is the honesty within my heart and within my head. I am not over you even though four seasons have come and gone. And that is okay, because that is the truth.
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