Dating : Letter to a love that never was.

Hey, I hope that you’re fine. Yesterday I was thinking about you and me, well, really it was more about you than me, and maybe not as much about you and me as I was thinking about us.

Of course, US no longer is, it’s only a beautiful memory. But I still like to think of it as if it exists somewhere, it surely must, I just need to find it again. I’m trailing off, back to yesterday.

It’s been over a year now since we met. Crazy, isn’t it? I feel as if you have been a part of my life forever. We’ve shared so many laughs, so many words, and so many adventures in a year it almost seems impossible that all of it happened.

But now, you are not really a part of my life. It hurts to say it. I must admit that I would have loved it if when you left me, you’d have insulted me, or cheated, or told me I’d done something wrong. At least that way I’d have some reason to understand our separation. Sure, you would have still broken my heart, and no amount of logic and reasoning could have prevented that, but fuck me, you didn’t do any of those things.

I remember it as if it had been last night. Both of US crying while hugging in that silent park a few blocks away from your hose. You were embracing me so tightly I was able to feel your heartbeat in my own chest. What a beautiful sensation that was. And for a few minutes that passed like an eternity, we still were US.

US as we had been on that first date, so happy and joyful. US as that time you put makeup on me and I forgot about it, and we both walked around while I tried an figured out why strangers were staring while you laughed. My god, you have such a beautiful laugh. We were US like that time we crossed the entire city to try one of those famous Instagram places, and just had cereal with some colored milk. I’d definitely do it again.

The memories were beautiful, and for the few seconds we hugged, the world was perfect. But the seconds passed, and the hug got loose. That would have been a perfect ending for a relationship right there. We could have just parted ways and never spoken about it again. But you did that thing that only you could do, and took a perfect moment and made it even better.

You walked me to the gates of your home, where my dad awaited. And before I crossed the door, you went in for one last hug. I did not object. I held you as tight as could without hurting, like trying to fuse you into my skin. And before you pulled away, you gave me a first, last and only kiss in the cheek. If it weren’t dark, you’d have seen me turn redder than a tomato. Good thing you didn’t.

And then, you whispered into my ear the only three words that had never been spoken in our relationship — by you, because I’d said them to you more times than I can even remember.

“I love you.”

See, yesterday I remembered all of this, and I don’t know why. And even though I know this letter will never reach you, I still wanted to write it.

I’m happy I met you a little over a year ago Lili, and I will always be.

To my first love,

Miguel M.