I can barely wait to be completely over you.
I am biting my fingernails, jittery on when I could finally stand in front of you, looking straight at your eyes, while you hold the hands of the new love of your life, and be genuinely happy for you (and her).
I can barely wait to publish a book filled with all the poetry I have learned to write when I held you so dearly in my heart, when my eyes were locked in you, when you were the reason behind the smiles which could almost lift me off the ground; and then, when you left me, when you stopped choosing me, when I saw in your eyes the relief after we had our closure.
I am already tired of crying. I am exhausted to have loneliness as my constant company. My back and shoulders ache from carrying the burden of resentment and bitterness. So now, I’m writing the last letter addressed to you. But then, it may not just be for you, but for me too—for my happiness.
I once told you in a letter ̶ of which I am not sure whether you have ever read it at all ̶ that loving you felt like loving an entire galaxy. A galaxy coming down to earth, so breathtaking, so captivating. Until it was time for you to leave—you, crumbling into a million star dusts before my eyes, as pieces of you slowly fly back to space. I want to let you know, for the last time, that you made me feel that the whole universe was rejoicing with me when I loved you. You are amazing, you are wonderful. I loved you without inhibitions; I was willing to wait for you.
But the universe began to collapse around me in defiance to my wild-hearted desire. Slowly and yet also all at the same time, I saw the planets falling off their orbits, the constellations losing their stars, galaxies vanishing into black holes. The planets have nothing to hold on to anymore, the stars wept in isolation, the galaxies became mere specks of dust swirling into oblivion. And yet, strangely, the universe in its messed-up state, remained beautiful and majestic.
Loving you is a universe-kind of story; I can never look at it in the same way as before. The love I had for you will always leave me in awe.
So to you, my dear, thank you. Sincerely, thank you for not choosing me and for not fighting for me. Because now, the universe is at peace again. The planets, stars, and galaxies found their way back to their rightful places again. Everything moved according to their own pace again ̶ the planets are not bumping into one another like dizzy tops, the stars held each other during the night and lit the darkest nights on earth with the warmth of their love, the galaxies reunited with one another and made the whole universe a force to be reckoned with. My heart, though hurting yet healing at the same time, has found its peace again. Your rejection taught me a lot about acceptance. The way you left taught me how to stay for people who matter. Your silence towards my pain taught me to cry out to God and finally allow Him to work His ways on me. Thank you dearly for not pursuing me.
I hope you live a life as amazing as you. I hope you find and marry the woman who would look at you and see a universe in you, the universe in you. I pray that you become a man of valor, of integrity; a man who would fight the battles worth fighting for; a man after God’s own heart.
And lastly, thank you for loving me too.
. . . . .
Featured photo by R. Seriban