strangers, again.

Breaking up was never part of the plan. At least, not for me. I’ve always found myself committed to people in times where I needed to just be alone. But I committed nevertheless, earnestly and wholeheartedly. When I met you, I really, really needed to be alone. I knew that and still, I let you in. And as most loves go, it was good until it wasn’t. Relationships don’t just end. They take months to deteriorate. I don’t know about anyone else, but I fight, and I fight hard. I fight until I can’t. I try to make things work because I don’t like to think that I’ve wasted my time. I often fail to realize that my time was never wasted because I discover something new with everyone I love or let in.

There’s this quote by Junot Diaz that says, “And that’s when I know it’s over. As soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it’s the end." I knew that we thought about the beginning a long time ago. The beginning became a foreword instead of a chapter. I don’t know that we should have stayed as long as we did but we did it anyway. On one of these shaky nights, I was out with my friends and they were all with their new partners. They laugh at the realization that the last time they saw each other they were all with someone else. One of them laughs and says, “Did we know it wasn’t them? I think we all knew." They all laugh and agree as they hold their new partners close. I remember thinking at that moment that they were right. We do all know. We all know when it doesn’t feel right or good and yet, we stay. Ego, I guess. I think we just really want to prove something to ourselves or everyone around us, or both. But the thing is, it’s good until it isn’t.

I think that I stayed because I didn’t know how to leave. I think that I stayed because you stayed and I didn’t want to let you down. I always knew how hard it was for you to let me in so I stayed. At some point, it all starts to feel like it happened to someone else. One day I just saw you differently. One day I just realized it would never work. But humans have a hard time letting go so still, I had one foot out the door but a part of me was hopeful. It took months for us to fall apart. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe we were completely disintegrated and all there was us scrambling to put ourselves back together. I know that you don’t recognize me anymore, I can say the same about you. I would like to think that love is enough. That it’s enough to keep people together and it’s enough to keep them from resenting one another but things don’t always work out that way. At some point, all you remember is the arguments and the pain and you can hardly remember what was said anymore but you can’t forget how you felt. And then there are the days where you miss them and your body aches for them and you want to give in but you know better. You want to be better and this isn’t what’s best for you. You distract yourself. You write. You re-arrange your room. You do things you shouldn’t. You talk to people you wouldn’t. You’re happy, but there’s a part of you that’s sad. You cry. You laugh. You feel scared. You feel light. You feel free. Because you knew. You knew it wasn’t them. You knew all along but love is difficult like that. Love fights. Love fights longer than you want to or care to. Love fights until it becomes this misshaped version of itself. Love fights until it forgets what it's fighting for. Love fights until you’re exhausted. I remember how coming back always felt masochistic. How something would almost always happen right away that would tell me to go. I think sometimes we try to convince ourselves that love is supposed to be difficult. And yes, it’s difficult, of course, but how difficult is it supposed to be? I think about how I became a version of myself I didn’t recognize anymore. I think about how you did too. I think about how we both probably hated it but we hated the thought of losing one another more. How we were both afraid to leave because it had been so difficult and we’d made it. We’d made it no matter how misshapen or unrecognizable we’d become. We always loved one another but I don’t think we ever liked each other.

I have had all this time to myself to think about our love. I know that it should have ended long ago but I know that I needed it. When you lose someone, you find out who they really are. And most of the time it turns out that the person you thought you knew is not the person standing in front of you. This was over long ago but it wasn’t until I had all this time to sit and think of you that I could really let you go. It wasn’t until I couldn’t distract myself in someone else that I could understand what it was to love you and be loved by you and all the complexities of love and how it’s good and bad and raw. It’s this raw unfiltered thing that shapes into anything it wants to be. How it can shape into this really small and distant blur, how it can shape into your entire being. I don’t recognize what my love for you looks like anymore. It feels like a foreign thing but I know that it is inside me. Because it wouldn’t be love if it wasn’t. Because we’re human and we tried until we couldn’t. And maybe we never thought we’d be here— maybe we knew all along.

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