Please don’t delete this.
You have every right to honestly. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did.
And still, please don’t delete this.
Please hear me out.
I should have picked up the phone. Or at least I should have called you back.
Now, a year later. I wish I had done something
other than avoid your calls.
But I was mad. So so mad at you.
You should know that I didn’t think answering or calling back would have done any good.
You set the bar that every guy I date has to measure up to.
And I feel bad for them, because
it may be a fruitless cause.
You should know that for a while you crossed my mind when I kissed other guys.
And I know that’s horrible. I tried not to.
I just wonder what it would have been like if we had…
would it be magical, electric?
like nothing I’ve ever felt before?
You should know that I did give up.
I was so tired. So done with not being good enough for you.
but even though I deleted your number from my phone
one warm summer night
I forgot how intrenched you were…
how difficult it would be to really give you up
because I found it in my electronic address book months later
hidden away, with other important things I cannot bear to lose.
You should know that it’s still there. You should know that I’ve thought about using it.
You are the longest story.
The one I continue to tell even though it’s over…
You are the shortness of breath I still get sometimes
when I remember what it was like to be loved by you.
You should know I refuse to delete my yahoo email, even though I barely use it now and it started sending you spam.
because then I’d have to get rid of the last of all the words we said,
all the brownie points we gave,
the brief notes…just thinking of you
the late night confessions
the last of everything that made me fall in love with you.
and I refuse to lose that too.
You should know that my friends hate you.
They are glad to be rid of you.
They believe that I am better off without you.
And they do not understand why I still write about you.
Why I still mention you at all.
And I bite my tongue,
so the words do not tumble out of my mouth
like a melancholy ache,
“Because he’s my first love…”
You should know I was in love with you.
And maybe I knew it, but didn’t want to admit it.
And maybe I knew it, but you were in love with someone else
so I convinced myself I wasn’t.
And maybe I knew it, but didn’t want to give you so much credit
for being the reason for such anguish.
You should know that when you said, “you know it when you feel it”
I felt like you disregarded every feeling I ever had for you.
Like just because I didn’t realize it, or wouldn’t admit it,
it wasn’t love.
But it was.
I was in love with you.
And that scared the shit out of me.
And you just passed over that feeling,
because I didn’t label it correctly
like an unknown spice in the cupboard,
recognizable yet still unclear
so you never use it.
You should know that maybe it could have been the secret ingredient to something really wonderful.
Right now you’re thinking,
a bit too poetic don’t you think?
I’ll be as poetic as I fucking want.
You should know that you’re the reason for that.
With you, everything was poetic.
The things you’d say,
the way you’d sigh,
the way your eyes would rest on me,
the way I fell in love with you.
You should know that when it comes to you, I can’t help it.
You should know that I hope at one point, it was one of the things you loved about me.
I know that you’ve moved on.
The hiatus, break, whatever you call it
turned into a cancellation
so many good things end that way
abruptly and without resolution.
You should know that I still watch the reruns sometimes.
In my head of course
Always wondering what if?
because it was good.
You should know that I finally figured out the difference between want and need.
I’ve learned that I don’t need you in my life.
Because I’m okay without you.
But I do want you.
Somehow, in some way…I want you.
And I’ve learned that that’s okay too.
You should know that there are a lot of things you did that weren’t okay.
I know your intentions were good.
You loved me.
But it didn’t feel like that when it really counted
It felt forced,
and I felt smothered by this love
this love I was supposed to return but couldn’t at the time.
You should know I spent those months of silence,
trying to remember how to love you.
I wanted to love you.
I wanted to make all your dreams come true
and tell you that yes, me too.
I love you too.
You should know that I wanted that feeling so badly.
Too much had happened though.
The summer from hell
cannot just be fixed by a plane ticket and a surprise visit
and I really wish you had just asked me.
Asked me if you could see me,
asked me if we could work things out in person
instead of quick phone calls, and emails, and skype sessions
Told me you were sorry
and I would have said I’m sorry too
You should know that love is a two way street
and we were supposed to be a team
we were supposed to work things out together.
not you making a decision that you thought was good for both of us
and then never asking, “Is this okay?”
You should know it’s because of you that I hate surprises now.
Some days the scene at the library where
you suddenly appear out of no where next to me
plays out differently in my head
Maybe I fainted,
Maybe I sat down on the edge of the sidewalk
because I couldn’t bare to stand
and we talked about it right there
Maybe I yelled at you
screamed at you, and how could you?
But I never kiss you, not like I know you wanted me too.
You should know that I still dream of you.
My subconscious teases me with snippets
of what it’d be like to run into you
like it’s the most normal thing in the world
and then I wake up
and I realize I’m never going to see you again.
You should know that I don’t understand how this all happened.
Like yesterday was two years ago
and I was in love with you
but today you’re gone.
You should know that I felt my stomach clench the last time I saw you.
I watched you
in your cap and gown,
proud of this accomplishment
a little swagger in your step,
like you always do.
I could have yelled out to you.
I could have run after you.
I could have told you all these things
and then congratulated you.
What would you have done if I had?
You should know that the thought of what you would do paralyzed me on those bleachers.
I didn’t move.
I kept my mouth shut,
left the water undisturbed.
It was the polite thing to do I thought
the nice, and respectful thing
I allowed you to walk into the crowd of black gowns
lost you in the sea of congratulations
and I let you be
whatever it is that you are,
and maybe you are happy.
You should know that I hope you are, happy that is.
You should know that no matter what you think,
I never wanted things to be this way.
You should know that my heart still aches for you
on rainy afternoons, when I cook potatoes,
when I see sales for nerf guns
when we watch UP at the child center where I work.
when I look at Gus in the chair beside my bed, the most beautiful stuffed platypus
when I realize my socks don’t match.
You should know that I don’t regret you.
I don’t ever wish it never happened.
I don’t ever want to take it back.
I forgive you.
I forgive me.
You should know that I know we can’t go back.
You should know that I don’t want to.
You should know that it’s never too late to start fresh.
You should know that my door is open if you ever want to.
I just think you should know these things.
So I’m telling you these things.
So that you know.