it’s embarrassing to admit, but every few months, i hope he’s single. i’ll go and check his profile picture to see if he is still dating his girlfriend. in between scrolls, i hope he’s well & happy. i hope that she helps him become the man he’s always wanted to be, and i mourn the little part of me that realizes i let him go. this one has taken a long time to heal because i always go back to the memories of how he used to treat me--unfortunately, these are the shackles that keep me from putting myself back out there in the dating scene.
recently, i’ve felt myself get annoyed & impatient with my environment. i get annoyed with those around me and find myself checking my own sanity often. but when i think of better days, periods of my life where those feelings were few and far between, i think of him. i think about how soft and gentle he made me & i will probably spend the rest of my life trying to find someone who makes me feel and act the same way. he was always so kind to me and expressed his kindness through his words, his actions, & in his presence. his kindness radiated so ferociously that it echoed back in time an undid all the things that ever hurt me.
i believe to be loved is to be known & considered, & i can’t think of a single time that man ever let me down. every morning, he woke up, before the sun was up, because he didn’t want me to get ready at 5:30am alone & didn’t want me to see him sleeping while i was off the PT. at 7:45am, he would have an alarm set because he didn’t want me to come home to him sleeping. as i walked back into my room, got ready to shower, he would make his way out the door to get us breakfast & would have breakfast waiting for me after my shower. i was considered. i went through an eleven day long sushi fixation & he ate sushi every single day with me. i would come home from class hungry & he didn’t even have to ask where i wanted to go. we get into his car & we were off to our eleventh day of sushi straight. i was known. to be loved is to be understood. one night i was so drunk that i started spilling out all my secrets. secrets that unraveled my own self-hate & disappointments, that most teenagers store in the crevices of themselves. he never would’ve never guessed those thoughts would ever go through my head—i was too naive & ignorant at 19 to know better than to make my mind a nice place to live in. ever since that night, he complimented me more than he already did. i never understood why he kept doing it, until he said one night before bed he said, “you’re really pretty. you know that right?" of course, i said a half-hearted "yes", and he replied, "well, you said something that one night…” & i cut him off. in that moment, i knew i was understood.
i’ve always wanted to be kind & considered kind; i want to be unwaveringly and relentlessly kind. and when any form of kindness is shown to me, i think of him. i wonder how his heart was so kind and soft despite all the things that had happened to him before meeting me. i feel guilty over the temporary feelings and factors i let get the best of me, which eventually led to our end. in moments like this, where i feel my heart strings play a quiet song in the hopes of him hearing it. i realize why i am not ready for another relationship, but i was never willing to give up my dreams & aspirations to be with him.
it’s sad to admit you’re not ready for someone else’s love to enter your life because you can’t let go of a previous one. for me, i just haven’t given up the love he gave me. i store it inside of me, using it in small fractions in the hopes it lasts through this lifetime & unto the next. sometimes, my friends who knew the both of us, will ask if i think of him when certain songs come on or hear a hauntingly strong southern accent, & i laugh. i laugh because, well, everything does. & with that, i try to be kind to everything i see, & in everything i see, i see him.
with all my love,
♡steff
ps: you will eventually meet someone else.
written: a VERY long time ago (still worth sharing)
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