Enter: relationship so amazing it alters how you see them. Struck with ideas that the rest of your life will be like that one. You forget how you were before because you grew trained to feel. No initiative.
Enter: relationship that seemed to change everything, but turned out to be just a well-designed replica.
I don’t care how it sounds or looks: I’ve had my heart broken in so many ways that if I were to be happy with someone I would be as surprised as a Titanic victim. Not supposed to sink, but down we go.
It’s sometime in February of 2007, early February. I told the girl I thought I loved just about everything I could think of to tell her a couple of days ago. I think my biggest mistake (and luckiest move) was not telling her that I love her.
It’s amazing how you can get so attached to people in relative time and then one time it may be the last time you ever see them again, a lot of the youth experiences this through school friends. I haven’t graduated yet, it’s coming, it’s looming and I can smell freedom in a form of slavery.
I’m afraid that it may be too soon to adequately describe this period in my life, I’m even more afraid that this period of my life is happening the way it is. I suppose the best thing to do is to offer up an example for those with sound mind to pick apart. This is a letter that I wrote for the girl, intending to revise or deliver, though, neither happened and she won’t have read it unless she happens to find this page. I hope she knew it without ever having to read it:
I can’t be everything you want. Since the day we met, I’ve spent more time trying to be the perfect lover than trying to meet the perfect one.
I meant it, but I meant it to someone else from an earlier time. That letter seems to capture an emotion that I’ve slept with many nights of my teenage life. What that emotion is or if it is a cocktail of them. I’m not sure. I’m just assuming it’s life, that’s what all the people say.