I want it back.
Not the first date or the first time you told me you loved
me (when I was furious with you), not even my entire freshman year of college.
Not the countless memories, not the crazy shit we talked about, not the last
year of my life. Nope, I don’t want any
of that back.
I want my heart back. I want my freedom to fall in love
again. I want my sassy, flirty attitude that made you fall in love with me. I
want to be able to go to Target or the racetrack or the beach and not think of
you, just once. I want my happiness back.
You aren’t willing keeping these things hostage. You’re
trying really hard to give them back to me and you’re doing the best you can
and I don’t blame you. (I wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.) There’s
just something crazy about accepting that once I take them back, you’re just
another piece of my life’s history.
Maybe it was just me being your stereotypical crazy
girlfriend, but I knew I would fall in love with you by our second or third
date. You know how everyone always says, “When you know, you just know”?? Well,
I thought I knew. By winter break, I had already developed pictures of our
future together in my mind. I pictured a big house with a huge garage for our
summer, winter, and just for fun cars and even more space for your race car(s).
Not to mention the fleet of motorcycles we’d undoubtedly occupy over the years.
We talked about the future and even had determined you would get me a Cayenne
(it’s definitely not an if, but a when). We were seriously in love. Or so I
thought.
Honestly, I knew we were having some issues. I mean I chose
to avoid most of them because I was happy enough and too used to the
relationship we had built together, but I knew they were there. In typical
Kiana fashion, I pushed as much of the negative away and tried my hardest to
focus on all of the good things. I had somebody to cuddle with (pretty much)
whenever I wanted. I had somebody to cook me things, even though sometimes it
didn’t turn out (suuuuper burnt meat, anyone?). I had somebody who was always
there when I needed to rant about my roommate who napped 24/7 or when I was
feeling down about my past or my future, or that the stupid laundry machines
were all full. I was extremely excited to have you in my life.
We had talked about how things just didn’t really feel
right. We tried to diagnose the problems and we tried to make things fun again.
For a while, it really seemed like things were going well. It seemed like we
were finally happy with how things were going again. However, in a sick twist
of fate, you weren’t as happy and excited as I was about a future “us”. None of
the negatives of our relationship ever went away for you and things never
really got back to feeling right for you.
It took me a long time to realize I couldn’t change that.
I’m still trying to grasp the whole situation, two months later. Looking back
on our downfall, the only things I can ever think about is how it came to me as
a huge shock. I knew we had talked about maybe trying to be apart even though
we agreed it wasn’t something we really wanted, so I never thought it would
actually happen. Why would I? I was insanely in love with you.
I still am, actually. Despite the endless tears that have
come from the break-up. Despite all of the times I told myself I wasn’t going
to love you anymore (like it was really going to be that easy). Despite all of
the advice you’ve given me on moving on and getting over you. I would do it all
again. But that’s not an option anymore.
You’ve been over it for two months. You’re perfectly fine.
You’ve moved on… Kiana who? Yeah, you’d never consider a second chance at this.
Especially because I text you with my feels all the time, I get desperate when
I’m drunk, and I keep making you explain why this happened over and over again.
What’s worst is that you’re so nice about it. I mean you can
be really harsh and kind of an asshole, but you do it because you know that’s
what it’ll take for me to get my shit together. You’re truly trying to make me
realize that I can make myself happy. I can be perfectly okay without you. You
see more in me than I could ever see in myself and you let me be stupid and
make mistakes and you never get mad at me.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, thank you and I’m sorry.
Even though I’m still not excited to call you my ex, you’ve
been a really great ex. Better yet, you’ve still continued to be an amazing
friend and I am so incredibly grateful for that. We’re not talking right now (again)
because I still can’t handle my shit around you and that’s probably for the
better… But I want you to know how lucky I feel to have had you as a part of my
life. You’re an amazing person and I truly wish you nothing but the best in
your future endeavors. (God, that sounds so grownup and weird.)
I’ll be back to normal again someday, hopefully soon, but
you’ll always be my favorite.
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