An Open Letter To A Former Lover  -- 7/4/12

            I remember the first day I saw you like it was yesterday. Froze with uncertainty, not sure if who I saw in the profile photo was really the person standing across from me. I reached out to you later that week, and then the rest of it was history. 

            I remember the first day I met you, it was the second annual Silk City Arts Festival at Eastside Park, I remember thinking to myself, “wow, this dude is tall, or I am just super short.” I remember taking a walk around the park as we saw the artists perform, meeting your friend, sitting at the park bench. I remember that day, how impressed I was with the fact that you walked a great distance in the heat to meet me.

            I remember the first time I met your mom, the fear I felt that she would think I was not worthy of her son’s attention or his affection. That day marked an important one; I met your mom and gained her approval.  

            I remember the first time I gave up on us, scared, immature, and finding every reason to walk away from you. I remember the disappointment in your eyes; I remember the guilt I felt. 

            I remember the first time I realized I had lost you for good; you started talking to a guy who went to my school. Rumors were spreading, I was angry with you, but even more upset with myself because I gave up on you, I was to blame for losing you.

            I remember the first time we hung out since our break-up. It was Valentine’s Day; you were the first guy to ever ask me to be their Valentine. We traveled into the City, ate at the bar of this Italian place, you gave me a card, wrote a sweet message inside, then you took me to see Bryant Park for the first time. There was a bitterness felt in the cold but such warmth knowing you were near, that we were here, sharing this experience.

            I remember the first time we decided we wanted to make this work, that we really liked one another. You and I decided to give it another try.

            I remember the first time I met the rest of your immediate family. Your mom invited me to have dinner with you, your little sister, and your stepfather. We went to BBQ’s and you were terrified, this was the first time any guy had dinner with your family. I wondered if you knew just how terrified I was as well.

            I remember the first time you and I went back to the Silk City Arts Festival but this time you were helping us out. I had volunteered you on your day off to work for free, I remember taking your phone and making us Facebook official.

            I remember the first time we said we loved one another, butterflies were fluttering around my stomach; I looked into your eyes and knew it wasn’t a lie.            

            I remember the first time I realized our lives were heading down two different paths. As we endured the ups and downs, the good, the bad, and the ugly shouting matches we would have. I remember being in my first semester of college and crying because I felt the distance forming.

            I remember the first time we both knew it was really over, as we sat in your car and said goodbye—Adele had just performed “Someone Like You” for the first time, and I cried for days.

            I remember the first time we hooked up after our break-up because there was still comfort found when we were together.

            I remember the first time we talked about the guys you’d hooked up with, I remember listening because I wanted to be a supportive friend.

            I remember the first time I slept over your place, how I was the first guy to ever do so. I remember the last time I slept over your place, it was the night before my first major company show, you were being cold but told me you would come to the show. I didn’t know then that I would not see you again until eight months later, that the day you dropped me off marked the beginning of the end, the finale, this was it.

            I remember the first time we spoke since I saw you last, it was a month later and your words cut me like a sword, through your texts you were telling me how you really felt, I felt a part of my heart break that day.

            I remember the first time we ever crossed the line—the first time we yelled at one another and called one another out of our names. It was a dark day, we had grown apart, changed, and in the years we’ve known one another, that day marked the first time we had ever disrespected one another.

            I remember the first time we had a heart to heart conversation after the huge argument. You apologized for hurting me; I apologized for not being able to understand that you needed your space to grow. You had been drinking and your words broke me down—saying how much you missed me, how much you missed the person you were when you were with me. How you wish you could hold me, and make the hurt go away.

            I remember the first time I saw you since September; eight months had gone by. That day, a vibrant rainbow appeared in the sky, I thought for sure it was the universe showing me a sign. I got into the car and I was nervous as hell. I kept staring at you, trying to see if I would recognize you, despite all the changes. I grabbed your hand to see if touching you would give me the same spark it use to give me, instead your moved your hand away from mine. I remember sitting across from you as we ate, catching up with you and feeling as if the person I fell in love with had disappeared, checked out, and wouldn’t be returning. You accused me of over thinking everything, I defended myself by saying this is who I’ve always been, and I process things differently.

            I remember the first time I came to grips with the reality that you and I would never go back to where we were, that things between us would never be the same. I had been in denial. I realized that our love was not enough. I called you drunk, while watching the Adele concert, we spoke for almost an hour, sobbing, screaming, and just simply hurting. I remember apologizing the next day for my outburst and reflecting on the fact that for the first time since all of this unfolded, I had heard concern in your voice. For the first time, I heard you fighting for us; I heard a glimpse of the person you were before.

            I remember all of this and I wonder if you do as well—“I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness, and I wandering eye, and a heaviness in my head. But don’t you remember, don’t you remember the reason you loved me before, baby please remember me, once more.”

            When time begins to weaken our memory, we can read this letter and remember forever: the memories, regrets, mistakes, difficulties, passion, and love we once shared. I hope that someday, you’ll find someone who makes you truly happy, that you continue to discover yourself and grow. I hope one day, I’ll be lucky enough to find someone like you, and someone who will love me despite the flaws I have. Adele said sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead, I don’t want us to last in hurt but to reflect and smile because these were some amazing and special moments in our lives. Some of my best moments in life were shared with you. I wish you nothing but the best, happiness, and continued success.

 
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