It’s been years since we've truly spoken to one
another and with all the things I have to say an hour simply will not suffice,
even if you wanted to speak to me about our past, which you’ve made clear you do
not. So I write this simply letter that you will never get to read. I do this
for my benefit, for the sake of closure you couldn't deign to give me.
I’ve actually written another letter before, one in
anger. This will be once of acceptance and one of lingering hurt.
In the time I thought I had relinquished feelings for
you, I discovered that the feelings have indeed lingered. I tried very hard to
dispel them but I guess it takes more time than others in matters of forgetting
what once was. At that time you had moved on with another love and I can
honestly say that I was happy for you. After all, you needed to move on from
your previous destructive relationship, one I thought I could sway you from.
Contrary to
what our peers may think, I wasn't jealous. Curious would've been more apt. I hadn't known about you and her; I was surprised. But the rumor mill started
churning and I became the brunt of unwanted speculation from everyone else.
Soon after I learned why.
Of course they would think I was jealous. You gave
them no choice. To say that what happened was nothing is the most hurtful thing
you could've done to me. By that you relegated my feelings and whatever
feelings you had for me then as nonexistent. But how could that be when I
remember clearly our moments, our conversations, and your promises.
I cannot fathom why you chose to do what you did. Is
it to protect your new relationship from me? A relationship that I have no
interest whatsoever other than mild curiosity. Maybe to protect yourself? Is it
because you were ashamed of me?
You hurt me. No amount of apology you have or will
ever give me will erase that. And I don’t think you care or think about it now.
My pain still makes itself felt today but it grows
fleeting and fleeting. One day it won’t hurt anymore. The past I shared with
you will always be there no matter how much you try to forget or deny.
I’ve accepted that you will never be able to face me
properly or give me the closure I once vied for. I’ve accepted that all of that
is in the past. You are the past and like some people you don’t matter any
longer.
This has been a Saturday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.
