A letter to my old life.



I've held off writing this. I wanted some confidence this relationship was truly done. My old life is a stalker.

How long were we together, you and I?

You were my guide and encouragement for so long.

I was your playmate, your devotee.

I so enjoyed what we had.


Everyone knew we were inseparable.

After all, you were glamorous.

Who didn't like you?

My pleasure revolved around us, you were always ready.

Countless hours beyond recall, unbounded conversations, heart-felt declarations, adventure.

I was a happy fool for you.


All things change and pass away.

We crossed a line without my notice.

I came to see things differently.

Robust joy gave way to cynicism, worry and self pity.

Frolic turned to rumination.

I was never so sad and lonely as when we were together.

Difficult as it was to admit, it had to end. 

It was me, not you.


You were ready to carry on but I couldn't, though life without you was frightening beyond imagining.

My darkest hours found me truly alone; your best efforts no longer consoled me.

Ironically, desperation saved me.

My fear of losing you gave way.

I was willing to seek a new life.


It's been a while now.

Life still feels new, full of discovery, I know peace.

I still mark the time since we parted, but tally no loss; I'm happy, as I never was.

I've never been so glad to be so wrong about so much. 


2 August, 2016

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