Letters to my love

Dear Narcissus

A month ago I received an invitation to a birthday party. At the end of the letter they warned me that you would be present, it was not a threat, nor wickedness.

It was a simple precaution of strangers who loved each other. And I know that that night I drunk more than I should and ended up in three streets lost and crying.

My love, do you not remember that a week after that birthday is mine? Do you not remember the way you called me dumb and you loved me? Was it that I was so simple to forget and delete? That you became a warning of a desire to gather from friends.

(Please do not answer those questions because my heart was never prepared for your truth.)

Although My Life if you can contain your thief and you from hurting me three years later I would appreciate it. My wounds are closed and I can already mention your name, I have begun to move on from you. Late, I know, but I'm doing it. And I know you can't allow that because my love for you was possessive and yours was selfish.

I understand, I know, it’s also hard for me to see you without me.

Even so, you don't see me manipulating the moments of our past in a present pain. So My Narcissus let us die in the reflection of us. Give us a break because I'm getting tired of repeating your name, crossing the street, skipping songs and biting my lips. My heart hurts from faking friendship with my enemies. Stop this war, my white flag is stained but standing.

My response to the invitation was a false yes that I hope you can excuse. Do not wait for me to walk through the door,  have zero expectations.

In return, I will not wait for a message at midnight and I will not think of your smile and the kiss on the neck, I will let it go. Give my explanations and say the game is over. Give us a good close My love, I leave the last page for you.

All that remains of my love.

Yours until yesterday.

T.A.