A Letter To My Almost Lover

In the past years, I’ve been a prisoner of our happy place. I frequent it a lot. I bet you don’t. I’ve got a feeling you don’t even think about me anymore. But you cross my mind at least once a day. Everyday. There are times when I wonder — what if? But it’s too messy and complicated. Ours is something that started with a web of lies. It will never work out.

“Anybody can make up past lives, she said. The real trick is to make up future lives & not forget you did it.”

It was better to leave it like that. A fantasy life for me. A reality for you (or so you thought). And I was being unfair the whole time. Because I was never honest about who I am.

“I’m at that point in the day where I’m tired of myself, she said, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to be someone else until bedtime & we had a lovely time together, my new friend & I”

You were the welcome break in my monotonous corporate life. An unexpected diversion from a painfully uneventful existence. I was very specific from the beginning. I can only offer you friendship. I’m forbidden to give and I refuse to accept anything more than that. Because I can’t. I should not. I’m not free.

They saw us standing there pretending to be just friends, when all the force in the world could not pry us apart.

We do not deserve to be accused of pretending to be just friends. What we are guilty of was convincing ourselves we ARE just friends. We both know and feel there is something else. We just don’t talk about it. I …. I don’t want to talk about it.

But you did one night.

“Let’s fall in love, he said & she said OK & he blinked. I didn’t think it’d be that easy, he said & she patted his hand. Love is not the hard part, she said. The hard part is trying not to freak out about what you’ve just done.”

No, I did not say OK. I was silent.  And you said that was just a joke. And we both know we were lying. I guess my heart said yes and somehow you felt it. We just can’t admit it.

We can’t. I don’t want to. And I must not. I thought I made it clear from the start. And you said you understand. But there are things that must be said. Or you’ll regret not asking and not knowing.

“I’m tired of hiding, she said & he smiled. That’s good, he said, because I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

Then I must leave. Because I care for you and I don’t want to cause you pain. And you told me, you’d rather hurt as long as I’m in your life. And I said, either way, you’d get hurt.

torn between wanting to stay & wanting to go & worried it will be the wrong decision either way

Leaving is the right decision. I know. And I did. Slowly. But I always come back. And you always welcome me. I hate you and I love you for that. And then I leave again. Because I have to. Because that is the right thing to do.

“We’re here to end it, I said & he said, No, we’re here to begin it & then she turned away.”


And finally I was able to turn my back completely. Or so I thought. Because whenever I’m sad, I go to my happy place. A place in my heart where I kept the happy moments we spent together. I’m a prisoner of our memories.

“I think you love people until you get to understand them, he said & I said, what happens then? & he said, oh, that’s when you move away.”

I was thinking about you and was wondering how the world is turning at your end. It has been years. I searched for you. And saw you and your life. And a painful truth was revealed. You are so different from someone I used to know.

“I think you love people until you get to understand them, he said & I said, what happens then? & he said, oh, that’s when you move away.”

I didn’t feel the fondness. I didn’t see the longing in your eyes. Only sadness.  And just like that, we are strangers.

credit goes to story people for the quotes



Roselle Cee Tee

A coca-cola dependent life-form who is torn between eating and getting fit. I used to play tennis and dance zumba but is now curious if I can run farther than 500 meters. I need wi-fi like PopEye needs spinach. Bucketlist: learn how to swim and ride a bike.