It's been a year since I last told you how much I love you. It's been two years since I was with you and didn't feel afraid. I guess that's what love is, or at least that's what our love was.
Sometimes I miss you. Sometimes I can't help but feel resentful.
The first time you did this, I told you I wasn't going to forgive you again, and today I think that if you spoke to me, I would forgive you, because I miss you, because I think about you, but I know you don't and that's enough for me to avoid doing it.
Maybe if I'd been braver or realized it in time. Maybe there was nothing to realize. Maybe I'm trying to justify why you left. I really don't know yet, and I don't think I'll ever know.
And it's not that I need you every day or all the time, it's sometimes: when it's cold, when I'm alone, when I'm sad, when I have to go to faraway places and when I'm making plans for the future.
Sometimes I want to run away, to run to where you are. Sometimes I want to run to the memories of us in my living room, the two of us on the same couch, when you came to see me, when you put up with my moods, when you hugged me and no matter how I looked, you said I was the prettiest, when you saw my family and when you told me I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to do because you could be there for me, because you would always take care of me.
And maybe that's what pushed you away, and I understand. I was scared of everything, and it wasn't because of you. It was selfishness. I didn't want to lose you, and I ended up doing it. But I see you happy, or at least that's what I feel.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had acted differently the day I stayed at your house, if I hadn't been afraid, if I had let myself be carried away by what I felt and told you the truth.
And the "what if" doesn't exist, and all the love you had for me vanished overnight. But I see you happy, and that's enough for me to remember everything I feel.
And if it's any help, everyone misses you, even though I know you're not coming back. And if it's any help, I think about you every day.
I think I want to put myself in your shoes, try to understand why you abandoned me, but that would be lying to myself, because no one abandoned anyone, and I feel guilty because I let you go.
Until a few months ago, I was still scared to death, scared of accepting things, of saying out loud what I feel, of telling everyone that I ruined our relationship and that, in reality, maybe we never existed.
But I was so tired of how one-sided love can be, that I made you feel the same way I do.
Photography by Paula Mariana Ramos
Video art, scriptwriting, production design, urban art, sad texts. Sometimes Sadnenita, sometimes nothing at all.