I Capital L Love You

the good outweighs the bad

June 22nd
Dear Oliver,

You know, I've been thinking a lot about the early days of our friendship. Not just because of writing this journal, but also because I'm helping your dad put together a slideshow of pictures for the wedding. Wherever you went, I followed, so most of them include me.

And looking through the pictures of us at birthday parties, first days of school, playgroups, and other things from our youth, I've started reminiscing about the day we met.

I've already dedicated a few pages of this journal to that day, but I feel that there's more I have to say.

I recently went on a sci-fi binge, watching a ton of time travel movies. Naturally, as I was putting the slideshow together, I started thinking about what I would do if I could travel back in time to the first day of first grade.

The concept has always fascinated me. Being able to go back and change the past sounds great – you can go back and see dinosaurs or go back and make a life-changing decision. I mean, who wouldn't want the chance to go back with their current knowledge and help their younger self out?

After a lot of thought, I've realized something. Given the chance to go back and change the day we met or anything else about our relationship, I wouldn't do anything but sit back and relive the memories.

I guess any sane person would change something to save themself from future pain, but I wouldn't. We've already established that I'm not fully sane, so it's a moot point anyway. (And Dr. T, if you're reading this, that was a joke. I know I am being self-deprecating, and I don't actually think of myself that way).

Anyway, if I could change one moment in time, like ensuring that your family didn't move to town, making it so you didn't meet Bri, or going back to confess my feelings, I wouldn't do it.

And why wouldn't I do it?

Well, for starters, there's the butterfly effect. Who knows what catastrophe that would cause? I don't want to be responsible for a new deadly disease or something.

The butterfly effect could come back to bite me in the ass with my shitty luck. The risk isn't worth it because I like the way things are.

I like the way things are.

I know, I know. You're probably thinking, "But, Sophie, aren't things absolutely terrible? Weren't you just whining a few pages ago about how I don't love you?"

     Yes, I was whining, but I've realized that there are so many good memories that overshadow my pain.

     The good outweighs the bad. Always.

I wouldn't throw away our entire relationship just because I'm mad that you don't love me. Now that would be incredibly stupid.

     So, while it's definitely still difficult to stomach seeing you engaged to another woman, I think that it's becoming easier and easier each day. All I have to do is focus on the good aspects of us, not the aspects I wish existed.

     I'm hoping that I'll look back someday (maybe by reading this journal) and be glad that things didn't turn out the way I wanted them to. In the future, I'll (hopefully) have something that makes this thing I feel toward you pale in comparison.

     And the hope that it will come soon is enough to keep me going and give me the strength I will need for your wedding in 27 days.

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