I cannot count the times I thought I was in love, and I have almost forgotten the thrill of it, feeling hopeful, pursuing my own chimerical story. I was desperate to be in love, or I was just living in a childish dream.
I never meant to like you, but I was chasing the idea of love, so I found you. You didn’t make the distinction between friendship and deeper feelings, and I played with that. I told myself that you were playing too. Were you? Have you ever felt anything for me? I will never know. You were my teacher, my classmate, my Facebook friend, my co-worker. There were so many of „you” feeding my starving soul. I fed with illusions so many times, and I loved it. I would probably have a dead soul now if I hadn’t. I wrote „you” poems, I sent „you” songs, I offered “you” gifts to remind „you” of me.
How many of „you” remember me? I remember you all. I know that most of you are now beside your boyfriend, your husband, the man of your dreams. I wonder if you are happy. I am still looking for my soul mate, but I have ceased chasing pavements, I love nobody.
I was selfish, self-absorbed, I loved you because I needed energy to move on, to get over my depressions, over my gloom. In fact, at first I was naive, I believed in miracles and magical love despite the circumstances. I believed in that movie, “Imagine me and you” where she leaves her future husband for the other her. I got drunk with cold water. But what were you doing? Why did you respond to my naive illusions of love? I have no idea, I should lie to myself again, what does it matter?
Years have passed and I am living in a grueling reality. I miss my naivety, I miss being so sure we can be together in the same love story, I miss writing poems. My inspiration faded in the gloom of ordinary circumstances.
I wish I could write a letter full of love, colors and illusory stories. Instead, I pour the sorrow that has grown into this rational person.
I feel like we will never meet again, so I cast loose this letter into the Universe. I can finally let go!