Let me start at the end: I do not miss you. I do not long for you. I do not love you in the way I once did, and I do not desire to build new love with you. I have been hurt by you, and I know I hurt you as well. I know I don’t know all the ways that I hurt you, and you don’t know all the ways you have hurt me. We may never want to know. We weren’t and aren’t meant to be one another’s great loves.
I am not always comfortable when I see a photo of you or hear your name. I have told some true and some unfair stories of you to my friends. I’m not exactly sure what it means to “be over” someone or to have “moved on,” but I know deeply that I definitely am, definitely have, and also never will. I am glad we aren’t friends.
After the end (and before it): I recognize that I crave and demand intensity. I am grateful that you brought as much of yourself as you did, as you could. And I am grateful for how intensely you received me: how you saw me and held me and fought for me. I am grateful that you knelt at my feet and hugged my waist and looked into my eyes with reverence. I am grateful that you asked what I wanted and listened and gave it to me over and over. I am grateful that you held on to the image of my best self, and offered it back to me when I dropped it, trying to carry too many other things.
I am grateful for the times you made me uncomfortable, for how much I had to grow. I am grateful for the fires you built me and for sharing your guitars and songs, and for intently receiving mine. I am grateful for the times you met me at the airport, for our wandering, our wild plans, for pretending like this was all we wanted. My life would not be the same without your loves. I would not want a life without them.
I am grateful that you got scared, got angry, cheated, deflated, lied, numbed yourself, disappeared. I am glad that our loves ended. I am glad that we are free of what is too small and ill-fitting. I love you too dearly, still, for either of us to return or remain.
I am grateful to you who regarded me as an object, and grateful to you who stayed curious with and about me. I am grateful to your selfishness, flightiness, rudeness, fear, anger, and self-hatred for showing me what are barriers in love, and for the practice in transforming those. I am grateful to you who ignored my body – because of you, I no longer can. I am not only grateful in contrast, but for the moments themselves. The richness of my own, our own, fear anger sadness. Our sincere delight and freedom and power. I am grateful for the nights and weeks and months and years you gave to us. To me.
I am overwhelmed by the love that you have given to me.
I am glad you have stopped loving me.
Onto the beginning: we are free of one another. I release you, as I pray you have released me. I will always have had love for you. I don’t want you to love me again. I want us each to find new love, more love, the love we desire. Your name is on my tongue, even as I kiss another. And we are grateful. For the joys, the heartache, for who we have each become, and for what’s next.
I love you. I don’t love you. I did love you, I didn’t love you. You love me. You don’t love me. You did love me, you didn’t love me.
This is right.