I wish I had a time machine to bring back time. At least an hour before our fight, and I would cling to that moment. Desperately. I would try to do things differently. I would try to say something else. But I don’t have a time machine and I cannot bring back time. And I cannot deny the fact that we tried, but we failed miserably each time.
I remember it all so vividly. How we laughed with hours on end, how you cooked for me, and how I used to wake you up early in the morning to bug you even though I knew you were a sleepyhead and everything but a morning person. It never bothered you. You knew that was my way of showing just how much I love you. I remember holding hands and hiking. I remember the emerald earrings you gave me, and the wild roses, and that purple lipstick. I remember it all. But I also know how we would do the same things over and over again, spinning in circles, and how we would call those toxic fights learning experiences.
I remember how we were perfect for each other – somehow, inexplicably. But we just weren’t meant to be. I remember how the finality of things hovered over our heads and we watched it approaching without being able to stop it. I understand why we’re a perfect match. We bonded so easily; we had the same humor. You were the lenient one, I the impulsive one, getting mad over stupid little things. I go over our relationship in my head and I put the blame on me.
Maybe it was me who ended it. If I’d only tried a little harder…but no. We would have ended exactly where we are right now, no matter how, and no matter what. It’s bigger than you, destiny. But know this: I still cherish you. I wish you only the best. And I remember you. Your perfume. Your gentle hands around my waist. I am sorry we don’t have each other on social media anymore. I’d like to see where you are now, the things you’ve achieved. I’ve tried texting you a hundred times, but I never hit send.
Breakups are not easy. I know. They need time. I need time to get over you. But I will. One day.
Time. Time. Time. Time.