Letter to my love

My love,

Yesterday we saw each other for the first time in three months. It was a beautiful autumn day and I was not ready to see you. I admit that I thought I wouldn’t see you ever again and although that hurt more than I could accept. I preferred that option than remembering the sound of your voice, your scent and the heat of your skin. 

I prefer to lose you then hear my name from your lips and the sound of your laughter. Because if there would be a torture for me it would be to have you near and not mine. 

And that was yesterday.

You seemed so happy, so complex, free, accessible and youthful. With that weariness in your eyes that look so familiar. You didn’t seem to realise that I was avoiding you. when you called me, when you grabbed me, when you spoke to me, when I despised you. You insisted and you were there, always there. 

It didn’t matter if I turned the corner, if I went to the bathroom, if I hid between classrooms and walls. Your voice, your presence, your name, was there, and it was unfair and ironic.

I didn’t go there for you. I thought it was a free space, that you had already left it, that it was mine again and that I was free and able to breathe. I thought that the last chance of a memory of you had been lost, that my heart could mend even if I still wanted you. My sweet, I thought I had a chance in surviving, but here were are, once more, writing to you.

Time didn’t stop. It wasn’t slow motion, it wasn’t red lights and fireworks. It was adrenalin in the body, wanting to flee, fear in the heart and only fearing for your existence. It was hiding where I could, in praying that you didn’t see me. But, if there is something we still have and can’t stop. Is that we always see each other, we always call each other, always attract. 

And we are the definition of attraction and crash, the sun and the earth. And no, I don’t want to think who is which, I prefer to continue drowning in the dreams and melodies of you.

Of course that after seeing you it was difficult. It was to pass the songs by “The Smiths”. Deleting the yellow from my closet and avoiding every street with a building (That day I didn’t leave my home). 

It was lying to everyone and saying that I was fine. That there wasn’t any pain, that I had moved on deleted your number and blocked in social accounts. That I was in motion because otherwise, I was going to die. 

Although, I didn’t say that I still have a photo of you on my cellphone, that your audios are hidden. And I know when it’s your birthday. I didn’t tell that I spend the day listening to the same song and smelling the bonfire in closed doors and windows. I didn’t admit that like an infection you were spreading fast.

Honey, to see you yesterday was to realize that even a part of me still loves you. Wants you and waits for you, that I can not control.

You were a new air, fresh and lively. You woke me up, you didn’t build me up, you help me reminded me who I was. You weren’t better, weren’t worst, you only were and that changed everything.

My love, you are my sleeping nights, the cotton in my brain, cold fingers, purple lips and tired legs. You are the slow songs of Lou Reed and infected wounds, you are impossible not to miss. That now I can admit and is a punch to the stomach. 

And I would like to say that I am moving on from you, but I am counting the minutes till your birthday. I’m waiting for a sign, waiting for a change in the stars, waiting for the impossible and it’s stupid, I know, it’s being an idiot.

Now, darling, the reason for this long letter of comparisons and list of reasons. Is my definition of missing and waiting for you as my failure to avoid.

This letter is wishing that someday you miss me yesterday, today, and tomorrow like I miss you.

Yous,

T.A.

P.S: Happy birthday