Letting Go… An Old Lost Love Letter…

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on April 7, 2009 0 Comments

Wrote this to a former lover as we fell our different ways… It captures heartbreak in a very very perfect way… Just came across it and it moved me, I would hope you all find it as intimate and touching as I do…

 

 

Letting go…

      Why is it so hard to do? How do we do it? Let someone walk out of our lives, knowing it may be the last time something special is there? The last time "I love you," drops from their lips, but never from your own? Letting them walk away, and still wish them well for it, even as it tears out our very hearts? Wishing them well-being and happiness while you know you have an in-determinable time ahead of unhappiness and loneliness? To smile as they drive away, while on the inside, you're screaming for them to come back? It feels like you’ve taken your own heart from your chest and left it somewhere and forgotten where. And what is left there to beat and sustain you and keep you living, perhaps even when you can see nothing left to live for, causes nothing but pain, and feels like a bass drum of wanton memories, reverberating through your soul, memories that continue to rise though we try so desperately to forget them, like so many bubbles in a glass of champagne. No matter how hard we tap the glass, they still remain. And so it beats in a shell we no longer recognize as our own selves.

      What drives people to chase after what they can't have, or will most likely lose? Why are we so feckless and naive to chase after such things, things that will surely bring us hurt? The good times are great, true, but if the hurt outweighs the good, what is the point? A test? Of what? Hope? Faith? Patience? Why must we test ourselves? We as humans bring so much suffering upon ourselves in the name of happiness, I know I do, and have done, and am about to do, but confound it all, I have no idea why…. Is it better to put a shield around your heart, let no one in? I know, I wear mine upon my sleeve, and have been told again and again, it's simply going to hurt you… She even told me that I'm too eager to give my heart away. And here it is, a pain, I can't cut off, can't control, something inside, eating away like a cancer. Maybe she was right… There's nothing I can do, no way to stop it, for who am I to tell her she can't take a dream and run with it? I wish her well in one breath, and in the next, ask her to come back… Am I selfish? Am I just being some kind of Idiot? Is it so wrong to want to hold onto such a thing? Is there any point to what I'm doing? They say pain makes you stronger, and what doesn't kill you does as well.

      But heartache… It's not real, not physically, or so they say. But if that is the case, then why does my heart truly hurt? With each beat, it cries out, a deep piercing ache, that I can't soothe, can't rub, can't touch, can't even fathom how it works, an emotion causing physical pain? Yet still, it scolds me for my stupidity with each life giving beat. I do not wish to die, of course, but to make it stop now would be a relief, an escape from the pain and my own stupidity. But how could I help it? I thought she was beautiful from the first day I met her. Couldn't even talk to her for more than a minute, for a year, or meet her eyes. Even at the dances we were at together, I couldn't talk to her, not even in such a loose setting. She was intimidating in some strange way…

      Does God have such a cruel sense of humor? I have to let the person that makes me the happiest walk away from me, knowing that it will be the end of it right there. Of everything we had. Might have had. How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to do that… I’m not really sure that I can. I have to watch the only chance at true happiness that has ever stumbled across my path walk away from me. I know I have too… Because I really do want her to be happy.

      All I asked for was a date… And it turned out to be so much more… And yet here, as much as it all meant to me, I managed to somehow ruin it. I have gone and ruined a relationship, possibly even all chances of a friendship…

      Charlotte Capron, in my opinion is the kindest person I have ever met. She’s the kind of girl that you want to make happy, simply because you love to see them smiling and laughing. The kind that you can fall in love with, and want it to last forever, the kind you want to take to the marriage alter, take home to mom. The kind you know you could deal with for the rest of your life, and ever afterwards as well. She is calm and forgiving. She is generous and smart, she has the reflexes of a cat when it comes to conversation. She’s confident and headstrong, trustworthy and competent. And on top of all that? She’s easygoing and beautiful. She was and still is perfect in my eyes.

      And now, I have to let her go, because I truly do want her to be happy, and her being friends with me is bringing her nothing but stress. And that hurts me worse than the fact that she fell out of love with me. I have done enough damage.

      I fell in love with Charlotte because she saw goodness in me, and loved me in return, and I could be myself around her, and she tried to soothe my fears, and I felt I could’ve trusted her with anything. And so I did. She made me so happy and feel like I could do anything, like I was full of light instead of the darkness I always believed I was. And now I must wonder if the goodness and potential that she saw in me was nothing but a trick of the light.

      I have to let go of someone made me happier than I have felt in years, who helped me forget the darkness of my past, and even hope for something better in the future. But we can never escape who we are. As I am, a selfish, greedy loser who wants to always relax and never work hard… Someone who believes he should have what he wants when he wants… She turned her back on me. As will anyone else. She told me something. God must sometimes beat on us with a hammer to make sure we don’t crack. But she’s wrong. He does it to remind us of our place in the world. There are people who are going to places, and who are held up by the commoners and losers alike. Charlotte is going somewhere in this life. I am not. Simple as that. But I can’t but help wish that I could see where she’s going. Even help her if I can. But it seems all I have done is cause her pain.

      I miss her, and I feel oh so terribly hollow. Left alone to my thoughts, dark and secret, I feel as though any goodness she revealed in me has been swallowed up again, and though I pray and pray, I no longer feel God, I feel no love, no happiness, no sadness. Just pain. And loneliness. She is gone. And after feeling what heaven can be like… This must be hell.

 

I miss you.

About the Author ()

1. Who are you?Me? Who? Little old me? Why... I'm Preston Kendall Bullard... And, what, pray tell, does that mean? Oh, well let me attempt to tell you... That means a writer... a lover... a hopeless romantic, a poetic soul, a brother, a son, a fa

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