“When it’s gone, you'll know what a gift love was.” Ian McEwan, Enduring Love
Over the years I’ve found love the easiest of subjects to write about. Always fully emotionally charged and with enough permutations to make even the most certain of men hesitant, the ideas just seem to materialize when they are needed. It is amidst this background that I find the need to write this piece.
As we lay claim to the fact that we each have our own stories, there is always that one story common to most of us. The story of that one girl. Mine was not so different. My “that girl” was you, my first love. You were the first girl I knew who loved me. The meet happened years ago. So long ago that we had both moved on and subsequently become friends.
At least I believed I had moved on, until I found out there was someone else now who you love as much as you did me. I know, its ignorant for me to assume I would always be special to you, Especially considering that I had moved on too. I know, that is why I was surprised at the outpouring of sadness that initially occurred when I discovered this.
There is no hope of us ever hooking up again, we both realize we are not the perfect fit for the other and now that I reevaluated things, I’m happy that you’re happy. I wish nothing but the best for you and him. I hope he brings more joy in your heart than I ever did and none of the tears I ever caused to flow down your cheeks. For good measure, and because it perfect encapsulates my feelings I’ll add the words of Bruno Mars to this:
Oh I know I'm probably much too late
To try and apologize for my mistakes
But I just want you to know
I hope he buys you flowers
I hope he hold your hands
Give you all his hours
When he has the chance
Take you to every party
Cause I remember how much you loved to dance
Do all the things I should have done
When I was your man
hmm very interesting
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