She went into her room and locked the door. She lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, thinking. She had hoped that he would comprehend what she felt, not just understand her. After hours, she sat up, walked over to the table and poured herself a glass of wine. She sat on the only chair in her room, grabbed a notepad on her desk and tore out a page. She sipped as she wrote down what came to her mind…

“It is stupid. This.

I find it interesting how deeply I care for you. Growing up I went through shit so I am surprised at myself, my own damn self.

You annoy me. I think I love you.

I say ‘think’ because we do have chemistry. However, that’s the problem. You didn’t try and this was effortless for you. Maybe I feel the chemistry because I have never been attracted to a human being as I have been attracted to you. Maybe it is just on my part, and for you, this is normal. However, I will not give it much thought because, fuck you.

I admit that I missed you terribly, I think I actually got sick at one point. I like how you get to me. Scratch that, I loooooove how you get to me. I wish I had written this sooner though because, as much as I like you, I don’t think I am into you.

I have very few things I remember about us, some which are very painful. Up there I said I went through shit growing up and as a defence mechanism, my brain completely shuts out the trauma. I remember vaguely what I went through, I just don’t remember how much pain I felt. I remember what happened with us, not how painful it was, just a rough sketch of what happened. I have no emotion tied to it though, and you texting back… brought back nothing except the feeling that I recovered something I lost. I wanted to marry you. I hate weddings and all the joy they supposedly bring because I CANNOT RELATE. But, somehow… I wanted to give my mind, body and soul to you because I was, for the very first time in my short life, SURE.

Let us just say it was never meant to be. They say you never forget love otherwise, it wasn’t love. No one knows how fast my heartbeat was, how uncomfortable the butterflies in my tummy made me feel every damn time I heard your voice. To have the feeling (not the memory) of that erased by your very own mind is the most fucked up thing. It is trying to protect me, I guess, from my very own self. Not everything is lost though, I love wedding gowns now, especially by Maggie Soterro. The one I wore was body hugging and made from silk or satin; a train as green and blue as the purest of seas.

I don’t remember how that made me feel, but I think it must have been truly amazing. I think I am going to get married, someday, to a doctor who is intelligent, loves cooking and is very much a geek.

I think I have said pretty much all I intended to. If I wrote this when I was into you, I might have written a book.

We are cool, very much. Right now, I think we are both mature enough to understand that sometimes this is life and that is how things work.

In all honesty, I think you put your shit together, figured out what you wanted in life and commenced working on it. I respect that you protected your peace at whatever cost. I respect your dreams and ambitions. I respect that life chose your friend for you and not me. At one point I might have felt second to her, but every individual has their own path; mine just doesn’t end with you in it.

She is lucky and I think she knows it, I wouldn’t take her for a fool. I am happy for her, whether you guys are friends or much more; because I am confident that you will take care of and care for her… every woman deserves that kind of a man.

By writing this letter I mean:

That is few go our separate ways and never meet, we are cool; that I let go of you, for me and for you; that I care about you, that I will always do and wish that you knew these things; something may, has or will happen to me or us, so this is goodbye; I love you; I want you to know that I spent time thinking about you, me, us and what could have been; I let you go, for real, for good, whether we talk or not; with love and every good intention.”