I am doubtful whether by chance you’ll read this or by guts that I’ll tell you to keep your eyes on this. I don’t exactly know why I wrote this. Maybe because I wanted to emancipate the well-kept thoughts about you. I don’t intend to initiate a second chance between us because I know there will never be. We’re over, a lifetime ago and all the love that we had was washed away by the waves of time.
I’ve burnt the letter we wrote for each other. A testimony of the vows we haven’t kept, of promises we haven’t fulfilled, of love we haven’t fought for, of dreams we haven’t reached and of days we haven’t relished. I wanted to forget everything about you since the day you pushed me away. I ran after you but when I tried to look into your eyes, I didn’t see anything but emptiness. I was a vacuum of memories to you. Nothing was left, just the desire to let go of me.
You are my first love, the one great love I’ll always remember. You seem unforgettable that until now there are times I miss you. I know the feelings are gone; it’s just that you left a standard that no one yet has surpassed so far. From your eloquent lips sprang the heart-fluttering “I love you” which always made my day. The happiness was real and new to me. I was never loved by a man like you did. You knew exactly how to tame my indifference. We fought over the smallest things but it made our relationship more exciting. You knew I hate to argue but I don’t even want to lose an argument; nevertheless, you made me feel that you better want losing an argument than losing me. You got me there!
I loved you. I knew you had doubts about it because of my frugality in words and deeds. I accepted who you are – your best and your worst. I understood your mistakes -intentional and unintentional. I forgave your shortcomings – simple and complex. I loved you by the ways I know.
Thank you for breaking heart, only then I knew how to be stronger. Thank you for letting go of my hand. You knew you’ll be hurting me more if you haven’t let go. I’m glad I loved you, otherwise I’ll remain naïve. To you my first and probably my last love, I wish for your happiness. Someday, someone will fill that dearth I never consummated.