The perfect chemical reaction
Of how loving you made me feel and how having lost you does.
I was talking to a friend today and I realised how, in reality, I have been grieving your loss for about a month or so. I realised I avoid not just thinking of you, but also thinking about your name or anything related to you. I had to stop reading some newspapers, I cannot watch sports news, I cannot listen to some podcasts. I realised that there are so many things that happen to me that I am dying to tell you, and I remember feeling just the same when I lost my grandma, many years ago. I feel like a part of me has gone, you have taken it with you. And the worst part is that I still love you. A lot.
You know, I have changed jobs since you’re gone. And it was hard, it was one of the most stressful things I have gone through, and all I have been thinking since then is how I would have loved to share that moment with you. I have to admit it, I almost messaged you in a moment of weakness but I managed to resist. I have not cried since you’re gone; or should I say, ‘since I have gone’, I can’t seem to fully comprehend what happened. Did you leave or did I? Does it matter? All that matters is that we’re not part of each other’s lives anymore and I still love you, I might even love you more now than I did a month ago, even more than I did yesterday. But I have to be strong.
I wrote you a million letters, I write to you almost every single day. You’re not here but you’re still the one I think of when I wake up, and before I go to bed. I have been having flashbacks, I found myself having to brace myself when I walk in the street, because the thought of you sometimes gets too strong. You would have laughed of me if you knew what happened once: I missed my stop because I was listening to a song and thinking of you. I ended up having to travel 30 minutes longer than needed but I got to kind of have a moment with you and they are so rare: as I said, I mostly have to avoid thinking of you.
But I forgive you, I forgive everything and that’s why I had to let you go. Nobody can afford to have such a weakness in their lives, not at this stage. I know it was for the best but I can’t help but thinking how good we could have been, how good this could have been. Maybe one day I will send you one of those letters, maybe I won’t. I am scared that you will fully understand what I meant when I said ‘I love you’. Because I know a love like this can be scary, I know because it scares me. It’s not just a feeling, it is a conscious decision. I decided to fall in love with you, it was rational. It made sense, it was like finally all the bad and good experiences I had gone through had served their purpose, you seemed like the answer, the light at the end of the tunnel, the perfect way sugar dissolves in warm water.
Yes, that’s how falling for you felt like: it was a perfect chemistry of small granules of sugars that loosen up little by little to become part of the water, so much you cannot tell them apart. This is how loving you made me feel: it did not change me, it completed me, it became part of me.
I guess when people feel like this, there are only two ways to end things: it’s either with a big flame or with a silent drop. I decided for the latter, no big arguments, nobody shouted. I said what I had to and you heard what you had to, not everything can be fixed. This is what I am taking with me.
I will probably never have a closure, but I doubt I’ll ever be strong enough to stand in front of you and let you go again. If I got the chance to see you again, I would probably never let go of you anymore, I would not be able to. Even writing this makes me understand I made the right choice but it makes me feel like I am living underwater… Yes, it’s beautiful, but I do miss the oxygen a little bit.