Avant c'était nous: Memories of a Love

Dear N,

I hope you’re okay. I am fine — that’s what the average person says. It’ll soon be six months since we broke up and I still haven’t moved on from you, from us, and from the memories of us. I know I told you I didn’t want you anymore and that I had already moved on. Looking back at it, I am not only mad at myself for saying that, but I am also mad at you for believing those lies. Why would you think that I’d move on from you so easily or not want to be with you anymore? Every night when I wake up, I still expect a tiny voice to ask “Babe, where are you going to? Are you okay?” Every day, I still miss the feeling of assurance your tightening grip gave me. And here I am, wrapped in my new man and still thinking of how you did it better.

Today, I thought of how you looked at me like I was the only thing that existed in the world. My new man doesn’t do that. He loves me (and I think I love him too) but he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t get lost in the moment contemplating my magnificence, so you called it. I don’t know if that’s a skill only you mastered, or if it was just a trick you used to pull me deeper into your clutches. Talk about tricks, I miss the forehead kisses and I wonder if they’ll feel the same with someone else. I hate that I still miss you and I hate that you had to introduce me to a standard of loving that I just might never find.

Yesterday, my sister asked about you and she is wondering why you no longer text her. I haven’t yet told her that we have broken up. I don’t know how to tell her this because she was so happy when she found out that I had finally found a person who genuinely makes(made) me happy. She will probably hate on you (and me a little) for letting this go, but nobody knows the true story — at least, nobody I talk to.

I am always scared to ask about you because one day, you’ll tell me that you’ve found someone new and I’ll be left wondering if you do to, with and for her, all the things you did to, with and for me. That scares me because I still feel special and knowing that you have finally moved on will be a big stone that my little glass castle will be unable to resist — it will crumble and fall letting the particles wound my already fragile body and soul.

Yesterday, I felt so lonely and so, I made a WhatsApp search and found the words you sent to me every morning and I was wondering if you now shower that same level of affection to some other girl you just met or if you had done it before me or if I was the “only” special girl who got the princess treatment — it felt more like that of a queen. Then I remembered how lucky you said you were after we started dating. You kept mentioning it and thanking God so much. I hope you haven’t found someone new. I hope for my own pride and maybe for a future impossibility, but I hope that you won’t find someone new. In the future when I get the courage, I’ll break all chains that restrain our love and run back to you.

I hope my letter doesn’t awaken the feelings you thought you were trying to forget. But I hope that it does. Do you remember when you said humans are primarily selfish and self-centered? Here I am, taking advantage of my prerogatives as a human being. Of all the things I want to happen, I don’t want you to ever forget me because I’m not sure that I’ll ever forget you.

Until we next talk…

Dear L,

I still wake up expecting a text from you and when I see none, I have palpitations — my anxiety still gets the best of me. Every other night, I dream of you, of us, and of the possibilities of us coming back together, but I know they are just wishes and wishes have never been horses. Five out of seven mornings, I really don’t want to wake up from sleep because I miss the days, I had to wake up to you, to your love and to your touch. The other two days, I am forced to wake up because I have to pee. My dreams are still filled with kisses from you.

I met this new girl about a month ago — she is sweet and nice and I want her to be like you. I think I’m not only in love with you, but with the memories of you too — that’s an obsession. This girl is about 22 and she’s a master’s student. I somehow often find myself unconsciously comparing her to you. That’s not healthy. We are still in the talking stage but it has great potential. I somewhat feel guilty that I am already talking to someone new when I was so emphatic about my undying love for you. But they say you need something new to replace something old — it doesn’t by any chance mean what is old is forgotten.

I wish we never happened though — and not in the sense that I regret meeting you but because I regret not being able to forget you. About a week ago, my friend asked “Have you gotten over L?” and I asked her if she’s mad. Mad in the sense that she thinks it’s that easy. If it was possible to take a pill to forget you, I’m not sure I would want to do that. I’m sitting comfortably on this fence of wanting to forget you and not wanting to let go of all the memories.

Yesterday, I thought of your brother. I hope he is good. I miss the random but deep discussions I always had with him. I miss the spark in your eyes when you saw that we got along just fine. I also miss the silence that ensued when three of us would sit in the room. Lastly, I miss that though he hadn’t said it, he had somehow accepted me. It meant a lot that he got along with me. In a family of people that I didn’t know, I was happy to have this lone witness that could vouch for me when and if need ever arose.

My friends still ask me if I can’t do anything to win you back though they know I’ve started seeing someone else. They say they had never seen me that happy and would love for me to get back to that period in my life. Our friend at the choir was so unhappy about it. She kept on telling me to find a way to make things work. If only they knew that things are not as they seem. And I understand how they feel. Ours was some sort of utopian love and now that it’s ended, it’s not broken just 2 hearts.

I hope everything is cool at work? I still miss cooking for you as you stared at me, so much in love. This should be my last correspondence with you because though I would love to revel in the memories of our love, I think we need to move on and be happy that in the heat of the moment, we threw caution to the wind and said “Nothing else worked — maybe this will”

Good bye L. I am still learning how to live without you.

Dear L,

Today, I deleted our WhatsApp chat. That’s all the memories of our romance that have completely been erased. I know it was a rash decision but I no longer want to go back to them and cry and wonder if things would ever go back to the way they were. And it makes me look like a sore loser. If I want to move on, I need to do this. What I couldn’t do was delete photos and videos of you, and of us. I’m not yet ready for that. But I guess it’s one step at a time. Baby steps, I must admit.

I remembered the day I told you to memorize my number because you didn’t have a phone and the next day, you texted me with a friend’s phone. That remains one of the sweetest expressions of love ever. Then I realize that nobody had ever made me feel the way I felt. Even now, I still wonder how you did it. You came in and knocked me off my feet and now, I don’t know how to get back up.

Some people say I loved you more. All of my friends and family say so. So what? It’s never been a crime or sin to be the one loving more. After all they say it’s better to give than to receive. But in the expressions of love that required concrete action, I’d say you loved more. We’d never know because we truly can’t measure the amount of love that we both gave to and received from each other.

At one point, I started doubting if you ever really loved me or if you just accepted because you got bored. I was mad at you and at everyone else for what happened. But if all what transpired between us wasn’t love, then love doesn’t really exist. We might as well go ahead and call it love. It’s crazy how an inconvenience can make you doubt everything about somebody. It’s like when something bad happens and I forget about all the good things that had happened before. The memories I have are gradually getting corrupted as I am starting to second-guess everything you said and did. I guess you’re doing so too.

Why did I write you today? You must be asking yourself. The truth is that I can’t keep myself away from you. Even if I don’t write or call, you come marching into my thoughts like an army of occupation and I willingly and readily yield — I can’t fight it, you’re the conqueror of my heart, the tamer of my wild thoughts and the solace in whom I find comfort. You are the siege I gladly surrender to.

I have mixed feelings about wanting you to reply this. But if you do, I’m sure I’ll be happy to read from you.

Dear N,

I have written more than five letters and burnt them all. I’ve also dialed your number several times but hung up before it could start ringing. I think staying away is what’s best for us but I know it’s not what we truly need, that I know. Do you remember when we read that book together? Do you remember what it said about soul mates? Every day I have to wonder if I’ll ever find someone like you again. Maybe I’ll find better. Maybe I just won’t. But finding someone with the same childlikeness and seriousness levels as me? I doubt I’ll be able to pull that one off. And in the loss of this compatibility, I cry because I need to go back to those talking stages. I need to go back to screening. I need to go back to all those things I thought I won’t ever be needing.

I think I became too clingy at one point in time. That’s when I discovered that I really was in love with you. You expressed concerns about doubting the authenticity of my love, but I doubted the authenticity of the expression of your love and even the reciprocity with which I’d respond to it. It felt too good and yet, too soon. And now, it’s gone. Now, I feel a bit lost. I will be lying if I said I don’t. I will be lying if I say this didn’t break me.

I lied about having a new “person” because I thought that if you believed the lie, I’d be able to move on without guilt or remorse. But it didn’t work and her I am, accepting that I haven’t gotten over you and yet, being held back by the strings that restrict our love. Here I am, writing this with a teary eye and a laden heart because, why not? Why must I constantly and consistently deprive myself of what I want and think I need?

I saw your mom some months ago and she asked me why I no longer come to visit her. I had to lie about work and so many other things but I know that those are just excuses and we both know why I can’t visit. I think she knows why too. I think they sometimes speak about us and laugh about it because we were too foolish to be so intense in living and expressing our love. And somehow, they should be happy because I don’t think ever really liked me. Or maybe I was just assuming. Maybe I’m just mad that it had to end the way it did. Maybe I need to stop writing.

It feels awkward to write all these letters and not even ask you how you are or what you are up to. It feels awkward that every time I think of you, a thousand memories spring up even though we weren’t together for long. Isn’t it weird that when you read from me, you have the impression of watching a mini series about us? I really want to stop but I think it is a good form of torture — for you, for me, for us. I don’t want you to forget me. So, I bring these memories of our love to serve as a blockade if you ever think of moving on. I reach out so I cab disrupt this healing process. This isn’t fair but all is fair in love and in war.

You said the day you’ll shed tears is the day you’ll find out that I’m marrying someone else. Maybe I’ll shed tears too because on that day, I will be losing the last chance of us ever being together again. How is the new girl? I hope she doesn’t get to read these. I hope for your sake and hers that you don’t make it so obvious that you haven’t moved on yet. You deserve to be happy. I wish some other person can give me just the amount of loving you gave me. I am not even sure I deserved it but since it came to me, I’d love to have it again, some day.

Please give me a valid reason to move on. Don’t reply this.

Dear L,

A few days ago, my friend was lamenting about her just ended relationship and in the midst of us sharing and sympathizing with each other, she told me “Don’t worry, we’ll find better” but the truth is that I don’t want any other person. And I’m not sure that they’re better than you. I would have to search and I don’t have that strength to put into it.

In your first letter, you talked about those forehead kisses and I chuckled while reading about it. I chuckled because before giving them to you, I had read about them somewhere. They said it was a sweet way to win a woman over and so, I was hoping that it won’t only win you over for a day or week, but for life. It’s too bad they weren’t enough to keep you. Some people yearn for kisses and I still long for the taste of your forehead. I still yearn for the sweetness I saw in your gaze whenever I kissed your forehead. Now that it’s all gone and there’s nothing but memories left, I feel guilty. I feel somewhat unaccomplished and maybe if I had given more of those, I would’ve had more time with you. I haven’t kissed a girl on her forehead since we broke up. I haven’t even kissed a girl since we broke up. Every time I think of it, it feels like cheating, even though we are no longer together. Now that you’re gone, a part of the expression of my love is gone with you.

It’s not only forehead kisses. There are a lot of songs and movies and people who remind me of you. Shall I cut all of them off in order to move on? But if I were to shred all these bits that remind me of you, I’d be left with nothing but a fraction of my former self. And even that fraction will still learn for you to make it complete. I know they say that people don’t make others complete but I don’t mind being, feeling or calling myself incomplete if that’ll bring you back and make me complete. You were the main piece of my puzzle and now, I’m bamboozled as to what I need or ought or to do to heal from losing you. I can’t count the number of nights I went to sleep with the hopes of waking up and discovering that it was only but a bad dream.

Last week, I was listening to a song off High School Musical and a line in it made me think of you — “I’ve never had someone as good for me as you, no one like you. So lonely before, I finally found what I’ve been looking for” And now, I have to go back to being not only alone, but lonely.

It didn’t work out with the girl I met. She says she can’t be with someone who hasn’t gotten over his ex. She says maybe it might work in future. I think it’s unfair to her and to everyone else. If we’re still into each other, then we should be together. I didn’t expect we won’t have a happy ending. Even this isn’t an unhappy ending. This feels like torture and we don’t know for how long we have to endure.

Please stop replying. I can’t bear the thought of ignoring your letters. I hope I don’t hear from you again.