Becoming Strangers

Dear J,

Remembering you is like a bad migraine. When I think about not seeing you anymore, I have to lie to myself and say I’ll see you again just to keep the panic down. The pain is intense. I don’t want to wake up and have to face it. I want to feel anything but this. Why did you leave me? Why can’t you give me a reason? Why can’t you understand your own mind? It isn’t fair. I can see our path clearly. We could have worked. There’s no reason for us not to have worked.

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

Today I saw something funny and went to text you about it. I realized halfway through reaching for my phone that I couldn’t do that. I immediately thought of texting you that I had almost texted you and isn’t it funny that I had forgotten we were broken up? I thought of your face, looking amused and understanding. I’ve read about people who lose a limb having phantom feelings of pain or motion as if their limb was still there. How long does it take for a brain to realize the limb is never coming back?

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

I don’t want to want you anymore. You entered my life slowly. I didn’t want you at first. And then when I did, you left violently and without warning. You called me perfect and then told me you didn’t want me. Can someone be emotionally raped? Hell must be love rejected. And yet I still f*cking miss you.

-L

Dear J,

I’m sorry for my last letter. I was in a foul mood. I imagine your face, hurt and disappointed. I wish I could fix it. I wish you could fix mine.

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

Sometimes I wonder if I ever loved you. Maybe it was infatuation, a kind of made-up love. Shouldn’t true love never feel alone?

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

Today, I sat in a coffee shop trying to work. You kept invading my mind. I thought about familiarity and strangeness. How it takes months to build up a bond, but only a few seconds to go from intimate to nothing. I feel the intense emptiness of your leaving, but you are becoming a stranger. I try to remember the sound of your voice, the expression of your face, the touch of your hand, the weight of your body. Some days the memories are sharp and hurt. Other days I can’t recognize you. What was missing is becoming something that was never meant to be missed. You really know how to make a girl cry.

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

You know what hurts the most in all of this? Is that you really knew me. You knew every part of me. You knew my mind, you knew my strengths, my weaknesses. You knew my personality. You could predict what I would say, what food I would order, how I would react in a situation. To be so fully known and still unloved - that is devastating. That crushes my confidence and burns away my brave face. It brings on a storm of grief. It hollows me. I hate this cycle, this never-ending rhythm of hope of reconnection inevitably followed by remembrance of brokenness. My mind fears the memories. How can I accept myself as whole when you were so integrated into my being? I don’t want to keep missing you, but somehow, I still do.

-L

Dear J,

Is it all my fault? It’s 3 am and I can’t sleep. I keep thinking over all the things you said you wanted that I couldn’t do. I thought about snowboarding. I so badly wanted us to snowboard together, to flow down the snow side by side, linked in the joy of riding the mountain. But that didn’t happen. I wasn’t always the confident independent woman you were attracted to. My failures, my shortcomings are black against white and fill my vision. I wish I could fix it. I wish I could fix me and feel like a whole person again. How do I stop wanting to be someone else – the one you want, whoever she is?

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

I lay in bed last night and thought about brokenness. Do you know the nursery rhyme about Humpty Dumpty? “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty back together again.” Are we like Humpty Dumpty? Is it impossible for us to get back together?

It would be bearable if someone you don’t like doesn’t want you. It’s when it’s someone close that it really hurts. It is unbearable to not even be friends. Our companionship is only a memory across a chasm of heartache and pain. The bridges we tried to build between our souls are torn, the shreds waving goodbye. I have to unlearn your name. I stop myself from saying it, from speaking of you as mine. I grieve this loss, grieve the loss of my partner, my friend, my love.

I miss you.

-L

Dear J,

A picture of us on our anniversary came up on my phone’s photo memories today. You looked so happy in that picture. I was surprised that seeing the photo didn’t bring me searing pain. I felt only a soft glow at remembering us laughing, enjoying wine, walking downtown holding hands, being tempted by ice cream. That evening was easy to be with you. I could almost imagine we were in love. Later, I told you what was in my heart. The evenings that followed were hard. And then the days were hard. The nights were the worst. Now I feel like crying but the pain is in my throat, not my chest. You’re becoming just a cluster of memories, a photo collage of moments, some joyful, some painful. I look at you smiling with me and wonder if you had really been happy that night or if it was just the wine. I wish I could live it again even knowing it would be our only one.

-L

Dear J,

Today, I wonder if I’ll ever have the courage to send you these letters. Some days I want to watch your face as you read them, to see if you can understand my pain. Other days, I don’t want you to see my vulnerability. I’m ashamed of how hard it has been. I should be stronger. But I am getting stronger. As you become a stranger, I become stronger.

-L

Dear J,

I’m lonely in this new city. I was thinking of love and loss today. You know that Adele song where she sings, “sometimes love hurts instead.” Seems like it always hurts for me. I moved to another country this month. Everything is new and different, even the Starbucks. I can’t help thinking of whether you would like it here or not. I think you wouldn’t like it. Many parts are dirty and rundown. It’s not fancy or expensive looking. That’s when I remember the judgmentalism, the lack of compassion and mercy. I remember my frustration at it. I think that’s my ultimate frustration with our breakup – the utter lack of kindness. You judged me silently. Acting as both judge and jury you condemned me. You proclaimed me unfit without ever giving me the chance to change. There was no merciful proclamation of wrongdoing or frustration to give me the opportunity to apologize and be better. There was only silent deliberation and then judgment. You chose your comfort over my good. You were right, you don’t love me.

-L

Dear J,

I heard from a mutual friend that you got married. Did you really care so little about me? It is so unfair that you get to enjoy the warmth of new love so soon while I am still cold with loneliness. I want to reach into my brain and rip you out, throwing you as far away from me as possible. I wish I had never met you, that I never knew the special way you looked at me. I long to forget how you loved calling me your girlfriend. It hurts so much to imagine you looking at another woman that same way. I can’t stop thinking about it – I hate this feeling, I hate this pain. I hate that I want your relationship to fail, that I want you to be as unhappy as I am. I thought I was done with this horrible feeling. I thought I was over you, that I no longer missed you. But now it hurts again and I can’t stop my anger at your joy. Why does your life get to be wonderful while loneliness still haunts me. It’s unfair you get to move on so quickly.

-L

Dear J,

I’m done wanting you. Maybe if I say it enough times to myself, this time it will really be true. I’ve worked so hard this last year to heal and rediscover myself as a whole person without you. I’ve leaned into my own interests, accepting that I have a right to just be me. Some people are like an ugly mirror to us – they show us the ugly parts of ourselves. I saw my ugly parts in your reflection and felt tossed aside like trash. I’ve tried to change – to emerge from the wreck of our relationship a better person. And I don’t want to go back anymore. I want to continue walking forward into wholeness, accepting myself as I am and you as you are. We aren’t special anymore. I’m stepping out fully on my own. I hope you are joyful in whatever you do and whoever you love.

-L

Dear J,

Last night, I imagined running into you in the future. I imagined we are in a big city somewhere, maybe Tokyo or Singapore. It is raining and I’m crossing the street holding an umbrella. My hair is short (the way I’ve always liked it) and I’m wearing red lipstick. I’m looking for a bar that will give me a taste of a different life. When I find one, I sip a local whiskey slowly. You come in, looking for the same kind of drink, the same kind of escape. You see me first but aren’t sure whether to say hello. I look up and see you so now you have to come over. What will our interaction be like? Will it be like two strangers meeting for the first time? Or old friends but awkward, with nothing in common anymore. I prefer to think of it like meeting a stranger. But a stranger you feel like you knew in a parallel universe. Maybe in that universe, we both fell in love with each other. But in this world, we are just two strangers, sitting in a bar, drinking whiskey.

This is my last letter to you. Goodbye J.

 -L