Letters To You

Letters To You (4)

Honey,

Do you remember our love story when our song plays on the radio, crackling through your speakers? Does it take you back to the years we dated, the years we spent making memories that seem to last forever in my heart while they do nothing for you? Yeah, that's what I thought.

You passed me on the street today, but you didn't recognize me. My raven hair and big sunglasses hid my face, my cheeks flushed from the humidity of our lovely Florida, and my newly toned body helping to mask the old frumpy me hidden somewhere under my pretty clothes and stellar smile.

Did you see the surprise register on my face, as I fell backwards onto the concrete? You helped me pick up my bags from a recent shopping spree, smiling at me like we were friends- like I wasn't your ex girlfriend. Did you see me look back at you, still hopelessly wishing for a fantasy that could never come true? And did you see the tears fall down my face, ruining my perfectly applied makeup, falling hard and fast, as I realized once and for all, we both have changed.

I don't want to admit that I've changed since we were last a couple. My hair is long, halfway down my back with waves I never had as a teen. I weigh about 40 pounds less from my obsession of working out, using that as my distraction to pain.

I went out last night, I met a guy. Austin. He was the only man who hit on me that didn't make me feel disgusting. Most men looked at me like meat, with my green dress hugging my body, my heels adding another 5 inches to my height, and my makeup like perfection as I always do when I go out. I'm participating in life again, Christopher. And I think I'm finally starting to become happy again.

Austin and I talked for hours, we left the club at midnight, and hit up a local bar. We didn't drink too much, instead focusing on the good things in life and what makes us happy. He's an athlete like me, and we decided that we would run the upcoming marathon together. I'm actually excited, you wouldn't have let me do it, saying that I could if I wanted to but not actively supporting me in it. I can do this Christopher. I can. I will. 15 miles is not much more than what I already run. My body and I will complete this.

Cupcake, you cannot believe how hard the memories hit at night. And I need to dispose of them- expunge them from my life. No more lackadaisical ways of erasing you. Every letter from now, will contain our memories until I have no more to give. You will not control my life anymore. Laura will be so proud of me.

On a more perfect note, I have a date in a bit. I'm straightening my hair, the way you hated, putting makeup on that makes my eyes pop, and a nice pair of jeans that hug my butt in a way you would've told me, reminded you of a harlot. I'm not your girl anymore. You can't control me.

Good night sweet pea,

Yours Truly