Dear Vanessa,
Although I'm over you, I have written and thought about you lately. Nothing big or out of the ordinary, but I have. Not intentional by any means, but enough to write about you openly once more (and hopefully the last time).
Did you know I purposely hide shit from myself? That's why I hate spring cleaning. Or cleaning in general. I find things I've written about you and the little things you and I have wrote to each other. Yes, I hide them in places I would never look, forget that they are there, clean, then find them again. Some may find this to be a form of self torture. I do. But in a way, I don't. Contradictive, but it works. I've actually searched for logical and relevant reasons why, but I haven't found one that can truely live up to the situation.
I guess when you love, you love strong. And when you love strong, you never really quite fully let go.
Remember the note you wrote me while you were in your physics class? I do. Well, I remember reading it when you came to my house and slipped it into my pants pocket. Remember the kissing scar? I do. I remember ofcourse being there. Remember Taylor's Creek. I do. It was our proclaimed creek. Named after us. I haven't been there since the break up. Going there wouldn't mean the same or have the same meaning. I miss the creek. Seeing the ducks and the fish. Feeling the winter breeze off of the waterfront. Walking past the tree we once carved our names on, declaring THAT was OUR tree.
Remember the wedding vows I wrote to you? I remember you begging me to read them to you. I read them to you and you cried shortly after. You told me that those words were the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to you. And that you loved me and would never let me go. That you would never let me go. That YOU would never let ME go. I realize I repeated myself three times, but when I replay those words, I wonder what happened?
Even though we haven't talked since the break up, you've never given me an explanation. Not that I need closure, but closure is appreciated. But you're astound silence speaks louder than your words ever could. Which hurts. Deep. That you'd rather hang out with beach guys and here voices more sexier than mine rather than give me a call.
But sometimes there is victory in defeat. I don't need your pity. Or your apologies. I have moved on and found what I've been looking for. What I once saw in you. But better. And its better that way. Ironically, I have no regrets about us. What was done and what was said was true and is squashed.
I just wish you wouldve never made me so bitter.
-
Recent entries:
- - 2019-04-28
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