16 09 09

Dear Sam,

Since we broke up, you have had two girlfriends. Both have had numerous siilarities to me, and I’ve always wondered if it’s just a coincedence or if it’s because I set some kind of bench mark for you. You always said I was your first true love, and part of me hopes you know you made a mistake by leaving me, and that’s why your girlfriends have been similar to me.
I’ve had three boyfriends since you. The first was a definite rebound, anyone could have seen that. The second, let’s just say it came about from my being low in confidence. The third, my current boyfriend, is amazing. He treats me amazingly, and I love him to pieces. But I still feel guilty for the times when I miss you.
You told me you miss me sometimes, you have told me that part of you will always love me, you have said, drunkenly, that you still love me. I don’t know if you meant that in a romantic way or as a friend. You say inappropraite things about my boobs, your hugs seem more than friendly, but you say we’re just friends.
And deep down I know that I wouldn’t be happy if we were together again. You never put me first, ever. You often seemed to need reminding of my existance. I think I just treated ‘us’ more seriously than you did. But part of me feels like this isn’t over. Like there’s still something there, that will appen, maybe not for a year, ten years, or fifty years.
But something is unfinished.

15 09 09

Dear Sam,

It has been one year, seven months, and eight days since you broke my heart.
Since that day I have cried over you, I have shouted at you, I have told you I’m over you, I have told you I’m not over you, I have told you I miss you, I have hated you, I have told you I still love you, I have told you I don’t want to be with you. I have told you all these things and more, I have felt all these things and more, I have pieced my broken heart back together the best I can, and now you are my friend.
We don’t talk as often as I’d like, but I’m glad we do talk. But soon you’re going away and I don’t know when I’ll see you. I’d like to think you’ll let me visit you, like you said you would, but I know it will never happen.
I have come to realise that I will probably always love you, in some shape or form, and while it nolonger hurts me that we aren’t together, my heart still aches from time to time. Because although I pieced it back together, you still have that piece I gave you. You always will.