I’m reasonably sure that this is a terrible idea. And yet
I saw something recently that reminded me of you. The thought made me smile and frown at the same time. It’s an accomplishment I think even you would have trouble pulling off. Blargle.
It’s been quite a while, though I’m not really sure how long. I don’t feel like doing the math in my head at the moment.
A lot of things have changed. Some things stay the same. That’s OK.
It’s funny how oft I am accounted as the romantic, and yet still sometimes I have the most prosaic notions about love. You remember, I’m sure. Love as an active verb, not a passive condition. Love as choosing to give yourself over to and for someone or something else, day after day after day. As something that doesn’t fall out of the sky and hit you on the head, easily gained and as easily lost. For some reason you didn’t like that. Maybe that’s why you didn’t love me.
It is true that I don’t love you, anymore, but part of me still misses you.
We were two lonely people drawn together by our insecurities.
I couldn’t sweep you away on a grand adventure, as you wanted.
I couldn’t make you my wife, and build a life together, as I wanted.
Now we are two lonely people, separated by our insecurities.
I’m sure we’ve both progressed into our separate courses. I’m okay with where I am, and I hope that you are as well.
Eh. There is more to say but I don’t need to say it.
I hope you are well.
I hope you don’t forget me.