DEAR EX LOVER

Ex-Lover,

This isn’t a wistful Hello like Adele’s. This is the acknowledgement that we existed, the acknowledgment that you much desired. This might be a mistake and now that I’m not drinking I can’t blame the bottle; let’s blame my water bottle.

Is it fair if I say that I was drunk the entire relationship?

Drunk on lust three quarters of the time and then drunk on pity quarter of the time and then the other quarter goes to the sense of belonging that I was dosed with each time I looked into your eyes. That doesn’t add up but math was never my forte, I know that for sure because even we didn’t add up. Pity you ask? Yes. Pity. The pity one feels after they have given too much and can’t start over because it takes too much energy. The pity one feels when the perfect thing just doesn’t fit perfectly. The pity one feels because turning a lover into an ex-lover equals to having an ex-best friend.

Ex-Lover,

I bought a fan the day we became officially us. It was the same fan that blew calm air over my bed after making frantic love, it blew your scent everywhere. It took me ninety one days and some hours to get rid of your scent. Your scent isn’t something I yearned for and held onto. It is something I knew I had to get rid of, I increased the frequency on the fan and its blades blended into one as it spun your scent away and let in some freshness. I was divided and multiplied when I knew I had to let go but I did it anyway.

You were comfortable in a way that wasn’t right. You know how playing in the rain is fun but not right because you get pneumonia? Or how sucking your thumb results in bend teeth? Yes. That kind of comfort that doesn’t do anyone favours. You were older and I younger but my old soul was bothered by you. In the end I became that grandmother that scolds the child who sucks their thumb because they know bend teeth will come. We all know that grandmother, nobody likes that grandmother, that grandmother is a whiney cow. I became someone I didn’t even like. Always checking up, always scolding and at the same tip toeing around your ego. It was great to be us but our teenage love story would have only been adorable if we were teenagers.

Ex-Lover,

You can do better. I hope you find a new chick who will be what you need. I can’t guarantee that she will be crazy like me, I know you will miss that. I can’t guarantee that she will have my sense of humour, my smarts or adventure. For your sake I hope she can understand you better than I did, if she can do just that then she is the one because I came pretty close to knowing you better than you know yourself.  I can guarantee that every single time you listen to Emeli Sande, Miguel, Lana Del Rey or Jay-Z you will be haunted by my silhouette. I can guarantee that the first few times she is in your bed, I will be in your head. You were blessed to have spent time with a version of me that nobody will ever see again. I have grown. You taught me confidence and bravery to just stand and look for exactly what I want.

My challenge to you is simple. Do better. Be better, date better, live better, aim higher, achieve more. Because you know I will.