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Maybe We’re Not Meant for Each Other, and Maybe That’s Okay

Posted on July 07 2019

Maybe We’re Not Meant for Each Other, and Maybe That’s Okay
Maybe we’re not meant for each other, and maybe that’s okay.
I look back at the life we shared with each other. The years spent together. The memories we made, the nights we’ve spent together, the laughs we shared. All the obstacles we both overcame, together.
Yes, I look back at the life we shared with each other, and immediately my heart feels a deep sense of longing.
You have no idea how much I remember every single moment that I had with you.
You weren’t just a part in my life, you were part of me. Embedded. Every morning began with your voice, every night ended with you on my mind.
You’re in every song I listen to, every meal I have. Your fingerprints are still all over my body. I can still taste you like it was yesterday. Everywhere I go, there you are. In the grocery line. On my way to work. In my dreams. During my workouts. On my layovers. The 12-hour flights I take. Everywhere. I land in Paris and there are our shared memories. Like a toxin they float my brain.
In Barcelona I still see your laughter. In Helsinki I can still smell your perfume. London has your sassiness. Zurich has your infatuation. Oslo carries your kindness.
Munich, Sydney, Bali, Santorini, Prague, Budapest, Havana.  Every city has your name written all over it.  I can’t get you out of my mind. I can’t forget you.
How can something that once was so beautiful, turn out to be so devastatingly painful?
No matter how much time goes by and where we are in life, you will always be my favorite person to write about. I will never forget how you made me feel. And even though loving you has been the greatest privilege, moving on will be the greatest gift I’ll ever receive.
Yes, my heart longs for you. But you know what my heart longs for even more than being with you? The day when you’ll just be a fond memory. My heart longs for the day when someone can say your name out loud and it’ll absolutely mean nothing to me anymore.
My heart longs to make space for someone new, someone who wants to stay.
My heart longs for me to let go. To forget. To move forward. My heart wants to finalize the process, to disconnect the emotional connection you and I had. To remove my feelings out of the equation.
My heart is longing to move on. But moving on is not like a birthday, you can’t count down to it. You just have to wait for it. So here I am, waiting for that day.
Because one day the moving on process will be completed.
One day you forget the taste. The next, you forget the smell. Then the touch. Then the laugh. Then the smile. Then the jokes. Then the eyes, the hair, the hands, the feet. You forget the socks. You forget the fingers, the toes, the sex. You forget the pulses, the beats, the rhythms and how you sometimes felt like they all belonged to you. You forget the words; finally, you forget the voice that spoke them.
Moving on is not like beginning a new chapter, it’s like beginning a new book — with each turned page, the last story you read fades into the background. A fairy tale that becomes just another book on a shelf; folded corners and underlined words the only reminder of how you used to touch and hold and love it. Moving on is when you begin to forget the intricacies of a character you knew intimately; you forget what she did for a living and what her favorite dish was. You forget her favorite color.
Moving on is waking up without a sour feeling in your stomach, looking at a familiar menu and ordering something different, taking the direct route to a destination and not the one that crosses a path you once set in stone. Moving on is when you think about her and don’t punish yourself for it.
Moving on is not to destroy or to combust or to set ablaze, it is simply to move, to advance through space and time, to leave behind the familiar dull of heartbreak for the new, the unknown, the strange.
Moving on is freedom.
My heart is longing for that freedom. My heart is longing to move on.
So yeah maybe we’re not meant for each other, and maybe that’s all right. Because you will always be my favorite chapter. My favorite ‘used to be’. So with this piece of writing, I am putting you to rest, burying our memories and parting from this chapter of my life. I will always have a special place in my heart for you.
But today is another day, and what ‘used to be’, is no longer relevant. 


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