L. K. 1896-1920

hey L.,

i’m sorry.  i know this isn’t the first time you’ve heard those words.  i’ve said them a lot recently.  i’m glad we were able to talk again though.  i thought the last time we would ever speak, well, you know what happened then.  it’s been absolutely crazy.  i could have sworn it was love too.  i said it first.  that i loved you.  and you told me you had no idea what that meant or what it was, but you figured it out, at least, for a while.  maybe we both never knew or maybe you can only know when you’re in love.  it’s like a dream that lives a taste on the tip of your tongue but when you wake up it’s gone yet every now and then you think you still taste it.  but i get it.  i’m done too.  there’s only so much emotion you can handle, and we both broke.  it shouldn’t have taken us as long as it did to realize how much of a disaster everything was.  and to be honest, i know we’re both glad it’s over now.

it was weird seeing you the other day.  the hard part wasn’t seeing you or knowing that you’ve moved on—i have too.  rather, it was reliving everything i had been trying to forget.  the problem with that is you’re not the only thing i’m trying to forget.  and pain is not some sort of stack of blocks that whenever you get hurt, another block gets added to the top.  rather different pains hurt different places.  when we broke up i felt a closing in my stomach and my throat.  when i saw A. for the last time it was like my head swelled up.  when i used to give up on living it felt like my insides would grow hot and my outsides would freeze up.

i wish i could say i was happy for you.  i mean, that’s what i said, but i know you, or at least knew you pretty well.  are you happy?  i’m not going to argue with you.  you just remind me of one of the girls hipster bands sing about knowing or loving.  you’re losing what makes you, you, L.  you think that your dreams are your own but in reality they’re the dreams that the people who call themselves your friends what you to be dreaming.  your artistic vision, your hopes of living in a big city, the people you party with, even the very air around you and the mannerisms you possess—the L. i fell in love with had different dreams.  they were her dreams.

i hope i’m wrong.  actually, it would make me really happy, more than anything else you could have said or done.  i know you’re confused about who you are.  and that’s ok.  but i’m worried because you’re not searching.  rather you’re just letting other people decide for you.  i don’t love you but i do care about you.  despite all the hell we put each other through, you are still an important person who shaped me into who i am today.  prove me wrong.  be successful.  love yourself and others.  be excellent and do excellent things.  remember who you are what what the really important things in life are.  i’m cheering for you.  good luck.

affectionately yours.


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