You said you remember dates. Do you remember the exact day that whatever chance we had shattered? Because I do. It was a murky kind of day, too humid and sunny and hot. That day was a day of finality, it had been too long for me, I could feel my happiness with you fading. But I loved you, or at least I thought I did. I cared about you, so deeply that I tried for weeks to convince myself that I was imagining the distance, dreaming up the lack of chemistry. In fact I led you to our own little place of calamity, I pulled you in and as our lips met, I prayed fervently for a spark, I pleaded with angels and devils, I begged to feel passion and drive and desire.
I felt nothing. The fighting, the jealousy, the weeks of half truths and dishonesty, the speed of our intensity had left us burnt out. You say you felt no change, but how could you be that blind? How could you be so oblivious, that you couldn’t see our reds and blues fade to greys and faded, washed out hues. How could you watch us go from talking with a purpose every day, kissing at every chance we got, to the ice-lipped stares we’d just exchanged? If that’s all you felt we had, I pity you, because at our height, we were nothing short of twin bolts of lightning.
And so I’m sorry for that pain I caused, but realize I felt our breakup weeks before you. I had to feel the loss of our electricity. I stood powerless as our connection died, paralyzed by the realization that I was losing you, that I couldn’t help not wanting you, but couldn’t make myself stop loving you. Do you know what that’s like? To feel adoration for someone, to want to care, the idea of causing them pain is physically revolting and terrifying, but you can’t help the lack of passion. You can’t force a feeling or connection.
You can hate me if you wish. Resent me, because yes, it’s probably easier if you hate me. I’m sure that you’d prefer to think of me as selfish, you want to act as a victim. It’s not difficult to look at a former lover as a villain, its simple and you don’t have to see from a different perspective. But imagine what you’d see if you looked through a mirror and imagined me as complexly as you see yourself.