Dear Lost Love

Dear Lost Love #4

25/09/11

Dear lost love,

I always thought it was going to be you and I in the end. Little did I know it was the end of you and I. I guess it was just a case of right person, but wrong time. We are young, we still have a whole life ahead of us, so many strangers to fall in love with and so many places to go. Maybe, just maybe, we'll meet again a few years from now and we can start over. I told you I could not live without you, but everyday I prove myself wrong. You would always say how you could never leave me but I guess you proved yourself wrong too. I don't remember what your voice sounds like, and that's the one thing I thought I would never forget. I constantly find myself craving the taste, and the feeling of your lips passionately planted against mine. We were so in love. I don't understand how one day you can be completely infatuated with oneself, and then the next morning wake up and decide that they are not what you want anymore. It doesn't make any sense. You called me your angel but you turned your back when my wings started to burn in your flames. I think the thing that sort of scares me the most is that you will be the story I tell my daughter. When she is curled up in bed, heartbroken. When she hasn't eaten anything in days. When she can't sleep because the goodbye that broke her, crushes her bones every time she closes her goddamn eyes. I will climb into bed with her, and lay her head on my lap. I will try to brush him out of her hair with just my fingertips. Her tears will soak through my shirt and I will tell her about the boy whom I met when I was 16. The boy who I fell in love with, who destroyed me. I will tell her about how much it hurt, how it hurt so badly it almost killed me. It hurt so bad that my mum couldn't leave me home alone just to make sure I wouldn't take too many pills. But then I will tell her how it got better. How it stopped hurting, how mum trusted me again, and how I didn't feel so destroyed anymore. But I won't tell her that I still dream of you, and that sometimes I think about what life would be like, if you didn't leave.