Sunday, 2 November 2014

To "The One" who got away - Letter to my Ex

I am not sure who to call you, your real name has faded from my mind cause it was never who I referred to you as. But also your pet-name had been replaced by the insults and names that where thrown between us during this bad time that has seemingly replaced great moments in time. "The One who got away", is it you or me? does it even matter anymore? We have spent so much time to figure out who is right or wrong, but is it important? See these are all the questions we needed to perhaps ask ourselves.

I am completely confused most of the time as I no longer know what is real and when it is creation of my imagination, did we have all those happy moments or is it just my mind playing tricks on me? When the world stood still each time we kissed, when positions meant no greater value than being in each others arms, when special little moments where more valuable than a holiday. If all this happened then we were lucky to have experienced such. 

Well if we were this happy then why are we apart? what changed? I was going to write this letter to tell you where you went wrong but I have just realised where I have went wrong and maybe that is what matters, I will acknowledge my contribution to our pain as that is all i'm entitled to. A man is suppose to protect and I have failed to protect you because I focused so much on owning you, consumed by making you mine. Put you in a glittering cage and hang you on top of my high chair so you can sing only for me. My providing for you became my biggest focal illusion as all I begun providing became material and stopped providing the care, the understanding, the smile and the joy. The love turned into an obsession, I started loving you to death, your death. I took a journey on a road that would one day have taken you away not only from me but everyone who loves you so much, the hand that was meant and expected to provide you shade in the scorching sun when raised became the hand that would strike you without hesitation, a fist that was suppose to be raised in your honour and provide you the strength became your most feared vision just before you shut your eyes hard and hope not to wake up again. I started quantifying all I gave in love and measured it up to the respect you gave me, to the efforts you made, the mistakes you committed. Forgiving became more difficult with each mistake committed, I measure and you weighed less.

We have hurt each other, let ourselves down. We have proved naysayers right. We have given love a bad name, we became a dream turned nightmare. But for as long as it lasted we were unstoppable, inseparable, a force, amazing and had a great run. This is one letter i wanna go on writing but just as i get to this part I realise we don't even talk to each other anymore, we begun keeping our eyes wide open around each other cause there was no more trust and as we blinked, like a great magician the love disappeared. . . . 

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