Words Left Along

It’s with equal parts frustration and sorrow that I write this letter. 

Frustration in feeling as if what I say fails to capture the essence of how I feel and what it is I want to say vs what it is that I mean to say. 

Sorrow for knowing that I speak not to the one whom I’ve coveted all these years, but to the person who inspired it all. 

A person, who by all rational accounts, knows nothing more than what once was; that’s if there even existed a “once”. 

There’s no doubt in my mind that it’s this real view, this true state of reality, that, for me, mentally shapes this letter into one of twisted feelings and dueling hopes. 

No matter what it is that my mind etches into the emotional tone of these words, it should be said that this letter’s foundation is built with an intentional goodbye. 

Not just to you, but to who’ve you’ve come to be in my own mind. 

Could this even be called a letter? 

After all, one of the recipients, the one whom I’ve cherished all these years, is nothing more than a mental manifestation. 

A creation that was the only light and warmth in the darkest and coldest part of a young man’s life. 

This fictional character, who was built from the very real and deeply held feelings I had for you, was my one reminder that beauty, love, peace, joy, kindness and all the other wonderful things are real. 

One thought of you, was always enough to warm me on the coldest days.

One gaze, a single glimpse, of a single memory I have with you, stoked the coals of my soul, relighting what was almost extinguished. 

I never imagined this character as anything more than who you were. 

Rather, this character was you but also a vessel for all of the good and wonderful feelings I had for you. 

A collected concentration of all the joy, thankfulness and happiness I got from being in your presence. 

This character was everything good that you brought me. 

But like all things, too much of anything can be its own punishment. 

I was so deeply attached to what I imagined life as with you, that the desperation, the imperative, was to protect and keep whatever we had, together. 

In doing so, I never was able to see you as anything but the standard of perfection. 

To lose you was to live life without light. 

With such fierce desperation on maintaining, it prevented me from actually doing what my heart wanted most. 

I always felt that if I did anything to further or make known my feelings for you, it would only ruin what we had. 

Like a man on the brink of freezing, desperation to keep the fire alive prevented the man from adding enough fuel.

 For in his mind, having a flame was better than risking not having one. 

Yet in the end, this desperation was the very thing that killed him. 

I’ve always seen the relationship we had as a fire. 

I remember the time where I thought it would blaze. 

But for the majority, it always felt like it was on the edge of extinguishing. 

Like a candle nearing the end of a wick, the fire trickles solemnly, the ring of melted wax shrinks and the viewer waits with baited breath as they knew it was almost time. 

The day that you decided to no longer talk to me brought with it a level of crushing darkness that I felt would surely become my end; and well, for a time it was. 

Even though you were gone, I still had the memories and the emotions I had for you. 

Not wanting to lose those too, I made them the standard of what I want in a partner. 

You, your personality, your looks, your everything, became the standard to which I looked for in all partners.

 You were gone, and yet I still couldn’t let go of your ghost. 

It’s been a few years since then.

I’ve done my best to leave you in the past where you ought to be. 

No matter how many days, weeks, months or years it had been since I last thought of you, somehow you were still in there; locked away in my memories. 

I’m not sure why it is that I’m so deeply troubled by this now. 

Perhaps it’s that I want you to know what you meant to me. 

That I want you to know how much I grew so I could be better company for you. 

Perhaps it’s that I want you to have the other side of the story. 

A missing chapter to a book read long ago. 

A conclusion or perspective yet seen. 

Perhaps it is because I’m starting to believe it’s time to let you become a part of the past. 

Maybe it’s because whenever I see a life that is considered to be my dream life, it’s with you. 

A reality that is no longer possible. 

I can understand how this letter might read:

“The boy who could never accept that things are done. That couldn’t let the past be the past, digs up old relationships because of his delusional feelings. A man who needs to understand privacy, and respect the wishes of the girl who wanted to be left alone” 

and you know what, that’s entirely correct to what I have been. 

Though in the past I didn’t know that’s what I felt, but having gotten wiser and older, I see now the damage of keeping my memories of us, and the irrational hope that maybe things could change and we could reconnect. 

The Austin that had a relationship with you has long been dead and for me to keep present Austin growing and always becoming more, I need to say what it is that I needed to say and to wish you a goodbye.

So then, here is my letter to the xxxxxx I had fond memories with. 

The xxxxxx that was my friend. 

The xxxxxx that I played halo and Minecraft with. 

The xxxxxx who unknowingly made me want to become a gentleman. 

The xxxxxx whose laugh would make my heart flutter. 

The xxxxxx who had the most luminous gems for eyes. 

The xxxxxx who had the cutest wry smile. 

The xxxxxx whose passions fueled her life. 

The xxxxxx who I must let go. 

If I do send this letter and you truly are reading it. 

I’m sorry for my behavior. 

I’m sorry for this letter and any stress it might cause. 

I genuinely hope and wish for you to have nothing but the best this world has to offer. 

You were the light to me in a time where darkness reined.

Thank you for being a kind soul and for having a part in my story. 

So then there’s nothing left but to wish you, “fair well” here at the end of all things.