Wow. This came around fast.
So… It’s your birthday…
Huh. How about that?
Well, you’re 20 now, and I’m not gonna lie: It’s a little weird to say it. I remember when you were just but six, dreaming of how grand, old 20 would feel. And now it’s here. So if you don’t mind me asking, how exactly is it? Since, you know, we aren’t experiencing it together. Like we promised.
You may think I’m just being sarcastic, but I’m not. I’m seriously curious. I seriously want to know how you are, how you’ve been, whether or not this day is treating you well.
Maybe it’s just my bleeding heart, but not being there for you on your birthday kills me. Even though we no longer are what we once were, I still can’t help but feel guilty every time this day rolls around. I should be there. I just should, just like I used to.
How long has it been exactly? Four years now? Dang. Time goes fast. Unfortunately, though, that’s not always a good thing, especially when you need a lot of it in order to heal. When the years move so quickly, time only makes you wonder if that task will ever complete.
I still don’t know what you think of me now that we’re apart, but what I do know is that I don’t care. Whether you love me or hate me, or even are indifferent, I’m still always going to love you. Deep down, despite it all, I’ll never be able to forget you, to forget what we had. And that is why this day kills me.
Four years ago, we would have been celebrating non-stop, not yet pretending like nothing felt wrong. Three years ago, we would have celebrated eventually — maybe not all day on your birthday, but eventually, even despite tensions. Now, however, we’re officially faded, which means no celebrations at all. And while it may be time to move on, I just can’t.
We parted too quickly, without any closure, and it’s just something that will keep my heart on you for the rest of my life. I mean, we did know each other for nearly two decades, so it shouldn’t really surprise you that much.
I’m sorry for rambling. I just can’t seem to get my thoughts together whenever I think about this — think about you.
I guess all I’m trying to say here is that I hope you’re well. Just like I said on Facebook, I hope you’ve had a wonderful birthday, and I miss you.
Yes, I miss you.
Someone near and dear to my heart asked me the other day if I’ve ever experienced an unrequited love. It only took me about five seconds to realize that, yes, I have: you.
Sure, I’m more than alright without you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you were my other half — my life’s complement — and now you’re gone.
Which means the only thing left to do is just sit back and let the rest of my life fill up that gap, no matter how agonizingly slow it may be.
Stay well, friend.