This always happens. The hard part is knowing whether it keeps happening because its destiny, or precisely because I keep telling myself that it will. Since the moment I laid eyes on you almost two years ago, I felt something. Just to make it cliche, it’s like I felt drawn to you. As if meeting you was the most important thing at that moment. Then it was talking to you. Then it was kissing you. Then it was falling for you. Then it was loving you, even when I wasn’t supposed to. My feelings for you have always been a constant. The ironic part is, that’s the only thing that’s been a constant. You definitely haven’t been.
That first night that we spent together, only a few days after we met, when we stayed up the entire night talking and laughing, it tied everything together for me. Even without realizing it, I let go of every other hurt. It didn’t matter that things in the past hadn’t worked out. At that moment, I would’ve suffered every disappointment, every heartbreak again, as long as it would lead to you.
I’m so sure that it was real, all of it. But I can’t help but wonder, if you meant all the things you said, if you truly felt the way you described, how could you give it up? You might say that you haven’t completely. Here we are almost two years later, and every few months you pop back into my life. Not for long, just enough as if to say, “remember me.” The truth is that none of this is fair. The sadder truth is that I’m not strong enough to let it go.
It’s wrong for me to want you. Yes, I want you physically… your crooked smile and beautiful eyes. And maybe that’s not so bad. After all, people can’t help who they’re attracted to. But my emotions for you are so much deeper.
It’s no secret to me that its wrong to cheat. But I only wish it were that simple. It’s wrong to be unfaithful, people say, if you have feelings for someone else you shouldn’t be with them. Yes, I agree. But am I really supposed to forfeit a good thing in my life because somewhere deep down I can’t let go of what I know we could have had? I’m trying to move on. I love him, I really do. But in an unexplainable, unjustifiable way, it’s not about my feelings for him. He is amazing, and my life wouldn’t be what it is without him. I love him and spending the rest of my life with him would make me happy.
I’m a fool. But I’d also be a liar if I told you that my heart doesn’t skip a beat every time I see a picture of you. I’d be lying if I said I don’t cling to every word during the brief exchanges we have. You’re miles away, preparing for a war I will only ever witness from the comforts of my home. But what if you weren’t? And someday, someday not so far from now, you won’t be anymore. What then?
People always claim they want honesty. But really, who are we kidding? It’s not like in the movies where someone can confess their crazy, illogical feelings and hope to have them requited. Honesty is a dangerous business. I wish that I could just ask you, person to person. I wish I could tell you that I love him and that we have a great relationship. I wish I could tell you that I wouldn’t risk what I have for nothing but raging hormones. I wish I could just look you in the eye and ask you, one soul to another, what this is. What you feel. I’d ask you if you remember that first night, when no amount of time would ever have been enough for us. I’d ask if you texted me tonight hoping to hangout during your short two weeks home because you wanted a hookup and I’m conveniently located, or if it’s because of the short few weeks two years ago, when we were as close to being together as we’ve ever been. If maybe something about you and I together has never quite left your mind.
Call it my self-fulfilling prophesy, but here you are again, reminding me not to forget you.