To the boy who broke my heart,
From that remarkable day we first talked in June, 2013 to the date I am writing this (March, 2016) we must have exchanged trillions of words, stares, emotions till the ears turned red and hot by holding the phone and fingers got worn by texting. Honestly I can’t think of another person that I had spoken with that much (including the three ex-boyfriends I had). But, believe me when I say this, that I haven’t told you half the things that have crossed my mind about you. On one hand because I care about your feelings and I don’t want you to feel bad about yourself (Worse, because you already feel pretty bad), on the other hand because I don’t want to sound stupid or desperate.
We were pretty close and open from the very first day itself maybe because our ideas and aspects were mutual or we were on-line most of the time or because fate was finding a way to fuck us up. (I’d stick to the first). But our lives were walking on different paths and you knew it better than me. Despite the fact that I had a boyfriend and you had a girlfriend, you kissed me. Despite the fact that I had a boyfriend, I kissed you back.
No. I didn’t know that you had a relationship with the girl who ‘was coming behind you’, ‘been helping you a lot’ and you showed a picture of, a week ago. Whenever we bring this up you share the fault, but what you never heard from me was that I did not know the extent you had gone with this girl like you knew about me. I got to know about it 30 minutes later that day, when you told me that you couldn’t go any further with me because you didn’t want to ‘break her heart.’
Then you promised me that you would keep the distance from me and would help me forget it and continue my life as a saint.
But you didn’t. You texted me in a higher frequency and a depth. You told me how many times you replayed the scene in your mind; how it made you feel and how you wished that you could kiss me again. You told me about all the ex-girlfriends and how they left you. You told me of that one woman you had sex with and how you didn’t match her expertise. You told me how beautiful you think I am, how I make you feel and how good I am at kissing. You told me that I was the second girl you kissed in your life.
You wanted to let me be happy with my boyfriend.
But you didn’t. It was you I spoke to about all the issues in my life. It was you that always gave me the right answer and brought back the smile. It was you I wanted to start and end my day with. It was you I searched for, in a crowd. It was you that I wanted to waste my days with. You were there when he was not. So I broke up with my boyfriend because of you. Yes. Because he wasn’t you.
You promised me that you wouldn’t touch me again.
But every time we met, you did. We never traveled by bus without holding hands. You made it a habit to kiss my forehead whenever we parted. We made out again, too. Twice since the first time.
You promised me that you would never hurt me.
Whenever you broke up with your girlfriend you seek me for advice. It tore me apart. You tell me about your plans on surprising her and buying her gifts. You tell me how she’s giving up on other people for you, the expensive gifts she buys and screen-shots the long, romantic messages confessing her undying love. I have noticed how you bring yourself down when she goes on for days without talking to you and blocking you from social media. I wish I could console you at those times and I’m sorry if I’ve failed. It’s hard to provide shelter when your own house is burned.
You told me that you’d marry me if not for her.
I regard quite highly of your intelligence, but forgive me, this is one of the most empty consolations you’ve given me. You and I know that there have been times when she had wanted to break up with you and let you make your choices. If you really wanted to take a decision, there had been numerous times. We both know that you never really wanted to leave her. I’m not complaining or hoping that you two break up. There’s a part within me that doesn’t support a life spent with you. I am stating the fact because you should know that I see more than you show and hear more than you say. For some reason that I have not fully figured yet (even though I have a few assumptions), you have chosen her over me. In any and every circumstance, you’d still choose her over me.
You tell me that you love me.
I can’t accuse you over a word that I haven’t fully understood. I can’t challenge you regarding a feeling that you feel and only you know of.
I care about your feelings, and try my best to make you forget your burdens.
I try my best to stay happy and release you of an additional stress. At times I fail. But I do my best not to.
I remember you in my prayers and always ask God to watch over you.
I have seen you shave-cologned and hairy-sweaty. You sweep me off my feet the same way.
I want you to be happy with or without me, even though it’s a hard thing to wish for.
I have forgiven you for all the hurt you caused even before you asked me to.
You have clearly broken my heart and I tend to search for you in every guy I meet. But if I could go back in time and change it, I’d still make the same mistake. You were worth it.
So whenever you tell me that you love me, I fold these into one and confess that I love you too.
If this wasn’t love, I don’t know what it is.
PS: You are pretty good at kissing too. ?