To the Man I Loved

There is no such thing as loved, only love.

I have already structured the way this was going to start and end, way before I even decided to write this. I just didn’t know how to construct the body, the raw truth of what this piece is all about. That’s why I always postponed sitting down just to finish this. And now, I’m finally doing it, after one fateful night, not because that night has opened my eyes to certain realities but because it just gave me something to structure this piece from.

To the man I tell myself I loved, I write this just for the sake of it. I’m not putting this out in the open in the hope of receiving something from you. I no longer need anything from you. I thought I did. I thought I couldn’t survive the thought of not having you as my better half throughout the course of my mortal life. Apparently, I could. It took mistakes and a trip down the path of self-finding to lead me to this conclusion.

To the man I built my plans around, thank you for wrecking what i built. I almost lost the independence I claimed I had as a woman before I met you. Every enjoyable activity I anticipated had you in the picture. Dates, random hang-outs conjured out of boredom, and the things I wanted to do before I died had you in them. I managed to paint something that had us two smiling in each event, having fun and enjoying every minute together. One phrase and one word that replied to that phrase just changed everything. I found myself alone, literally alone. Trying to pick the pieces up of the planned out future I had. I stopped planning because I felt it was unhealthy. I decided to let go and take whatever chance seemed within reach. I did things just so that I could still manage to smile. You know what boredom does to me, right? I don’t know if my choices were built around the idea of me feeling sorry for myself but I believed those were baby steps to finding myself. But I didn’t find myself, I found someone else. She was happy, ecstatic, I have to say. A series of wonderful events came. A month without you seemed wonderful. Time away is always what someone needs when she’s in the process of mending wounds, the kind of wounds that can be hidden under layers of clothing but still manage to hurt when you’ve got nothing else to distract you from the pain.

To the man I gave my trust to, I don’t know if I should apologize for the “mistakes” I did. I listened to you and listened well. I may have done things not worthy of a woman who’s in a committed relationship but you never showed qualms. I didn’t do them because I knew you didn’t have the heart to leave me. I knew you could and that you would. I did them because I wanted to know if you were capable of pain and rage. Well, now I know you are. I knew too late. I was conversing with someone last night, because he overheard me saying I was single. He asked about my past relationship and asked what led to its termination. So, I shared about the kiss, that kiss that made my world crash and my heart skip multiple beats. I even ended up not breathing for some time. I didn’t know that could happen. I told him of your disloyalty, the one that you hid from me for the longest time in the hope that it would never be spoken of ever. I found it queer when he asked “Kissing is considered cheating?” When I said yes according to you because you said it so yourself, I noticed that he took a long sip of his drink while trying to hide a laugh that seemed to have a taint of guilt in it. I wondered if he actually did something similar to his girl, the girl that he’s currently so happy with. I did not dare to comment on his reaction anymore and went on sharing what I ended up doing after I found out about what you did. And he almost jumped out of his seat while staring at me in shock. I tried to justify my actions, claiming that I was caught in the middle of a game and that emotions were detached from the situation. He simply remarked, “Everything starts with a game.” And now that I think of it, yes, even if nothing good came from the game I ended up playing, I did realize that things do start once people decide to play. I wondered if indeed, I was the one who was wrong the whole time.

To the man I gave all of me to, I have to admit I wasn’t totally real. I restrained myself from being the kind of person I am because I was scared that if I released my tendencies, I’d end up scaring you away. I stopped myself from being affectionate. I stopped myself from demanding too much from the person who demanded nothing from me but loyalty. Of course, this loyalty you broke as I have said earlier. A certain percentage of my character had to spend its time in the shadows and I had to show the image I thought you liked. Apparently, that was wrong. I almost lost myself, the one thing I promised myself never to lose to whoever no matter what. I wonder if I should regret giving everything to the first man I learned to love or should I just charge everything to experience. And I often wondered if you loved me enough as well. I think too much, I know, but only because things like this don’t operate on the emotional level alone. I created this image of you and worked my personality around that because I thought it would make both of us happy. I was wrong – for the nth time.

Must I hate the choices made that have led me to my current state? Must I hate you for being the kind of person you are? Must I hate myself for actually going as far as losing my pride and independence? I almost lost myself for a short-lived image of forever. The logical aspect of me decided to malfunction at the most awful time, but I can’t blame something as intangible as that. I couldn’t pinpoint anyone worthy of the blame. I’ll charge it all to experience and hide behind these plastic smiles, the kinds that I have molded years ago, way before we shared something. Funny. These smiles were created when you existed in my personal bubble.

To the man I have loved and lost, so far this is all I can say. I write not out of spite. The hurt doesn’t even run through my fingers now and this takes me by surprise because I just seem so detached. My detachment scares me. It’s either I don’t care or I care too much but only differently now. You know I can forgive but not forget. I can smile and pretend I’m ok. Being too honest with everything doesn’t do anyone good. You see what it has done to me. Honesty ruined me. And you did say, some things are better left unsaid. That method worked perfectly on your behalf. I could learn a hundred things from you. I think I should be grateful for the lessons learned. This time, I’m totally spent.

There is no such thing as loved, only love. I never believed in this. But I know that you can love someone even after falling out of love for that person. If the girl who uttered the first statement is right then this is all I can say: To that man I loved romantically, I still love you. It’s either I love you forever in a platonic sense or I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.