I believe that there are very few people in the world who get to meet their dream partner. The one who has it all: the beautiful body (of course) but, more importantly, the most beautiful soul, the most beautiful heart, and the most beautiful mind. It’s only fair that everybody should be blessed enough to find that person. The one who makes everything seem possible. The one who makes you feel like anything can be achieved. The individual who brings sunlight to the most difficult and darkest times of your life (well, apart from this moment). Yes, we’ll call them The One.
For once in my life, I got lucky. I found my One. The issue is that I achieved the dream; I met that person… But, she didn’t. That’s the real problem. After all, if I met my dream partner, shouldn’t she be afforded the same opportunity? Of course she should, but that means that I lose mine. It forces me to face a future in which whatever follows for me will be a cheap imitation of what has gone before. Despite my own best efforts and the best efforts of whoever comes into my life in the future, she will never be able to live up to The One I lost. How is that fair for me or the person who comes next? It’s a truly depressing thought. One that I dread.
This is an open letter to the world, I guess. I’m under no illusion: the likelihood of, my One, the person it’s about seeing it is slim; the letter will never make it that far. Writing this and putting it out into the world is the closest thing I have to showing it to her. At least I can go to bed at night knowing that she might have seen it, as oppose to leaving this in my bedside draw and knowing she hasn’t seen it. I’ve written so many rambling words to her over the last few months to the point where it no longer means anything to her, but I still have stuff that I need to say.
So, what is the goal of this letter? Well, it’s not an attempt to “win her back.” Unfortunately, I fear that ship has sailed (but do we ever completely give up hope?). Nor is this letter an attempt to seek attention. If that was the case, I’d attach my name to it or, at the very least, a pseudonym that she’d recognize.
I guess the goal is to get things off my chest, to try and allow myself to breath again. For the last few months, I’ve felt like I’ve been drowning under the weight of heartbreak, loss, despair, complete anguish, and depression. The pressure on my chest and my heart has been immense. I can only imagine that this is what it feels like to be buried alive. Alone, afraid, and slowly suffocating as your life ebbs away in the dark.
This letter is an act of catharsis. An attempt to take control of the situation and provide myself with some agency. And, yes, it’s a display of love. A direct message to say that I will never forget my One and my love for her will never dissipate, despite what happens in the future and the courses we take in our lives.
Letting go of the person you love is the most difficult thing in the world. I’ve loved and lost before… who hasn’t? We all suffer heartbreak. It’s one of the brutal realities of life. But crushing heartbreak is also something that defines us as individuals. I was talking to a wise old lady on my porch for hours the other night and she told me that how we react to these moments is telling: we can learn from them or we can surrender to them and let them drag us under the waves, drowning any possibility of a future.
You don’t wish death on anybody, especially not somebody that you love. I’m not wishing death on the only person in my life that I’d be willing to die for. But, if they were dead you could grieve and not feel like a fool. You could grieve knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do to bring them back. I’m not kidding myself. Despite my best efforts, I know that I can’t bring her back. God knows I’ve tried.
People’s natural response is to say that you should remove yourself from the situation completely. But, no, that’s not what I want, even if it’d supposedly be “better” for me. My life is richer with her in it. I don’t want a life that is diminished by not having such an inspirational and special figure in my life. The ultimate goal is to be able to talk to people about her and smile and feel grateful and privileged for the time I got to spend with her and the huge impact that she had on my life.
Eventually, she will go on to find the life that I wanted with her. The one I dreamed about, and when she does, I need to make sure that I can smile, knowing that she is happy without the anchor that is me around her neck. I need to afford her the privilege I felt when I was lucky enough to be a part of her life and share my life with her.
I once had a drunken debate with somebody. He asked me the old question: “Would you rather have loved and lost or never loved at all.” I looked across the room to where The One this letter is about was standing and I answered immediately. “I can’t imagine having never met her, so I would rather love and lose.” The guy shook his head in disbelief. He disagreed with my stance.
Most nights, when I get into bed and turn the light out, that drunken conversation comes into my thoughts and I question the answer that I gave. If I’d never have met her, I wouldn’t be feeling the lowest I’ve ever felt, my life wouldn’t be in turmoil, and my heart wouldn’t be hurting. But then I think about her and the stuff we’ve experienced over the last few years and I smile (I admit that this is usually while simultaneously crying) because, that’s what she does: she makes me smile. She always has and she always will. Despite everything, she still makes me smile and that’s why I don’t want to sever ties. That’s why I want her to be in my life.
Each day I wake up and tell myself to not be sad for what I have lost, but to smile and be happy for what I had.
Well, that’s the scary part. People always say that everything will be OK. In time, the good will come out and start the healing. Until that time, however, each day you need to work at keeping your head above the water.
In a failed attempt to flush this heartbreak out of my system, I recently had sex with somebody. I just felt numb. I felt so numb that, for the first time in my life, I faked it. I pretended I’d finished just to get it over and done with. It was a horrible, crushing, soul destroying experience.
Of course, I know that I’m not the first person to feel this way, and I won’t be the last. But, one thing is for sure, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. Despite all of this, however, would I rewind the clock and wish that I’d never met my One. No way. She touched my life in a way that is indescribable. If you find your One, hold him or her tight and strive every day to be the very best person you can for them. If things work out, I salute you. Make the most of spending, sharing, and enjoying your life with that person.
If you are reading this letter and you think it’s written about you, maybe it is. Yes, you might not be my One, but you are, were, or will be somebody’s one. So, this letter is for you, too. If you’re my One and you’re reading this, I want you to know that I will always love you unconditionally. You are the most amazing individual who has enriched my life in ways that I never thought were possible. You are so much more than you realize and I’m forever in your debt. You will always be The One.
Thank you for everything.
All my love.