To the Person I Can Never Be With
If people were to describe us months ago, they would probably say we were perfect. We had most things figured out: where we'll be off to for college, the companies we 'd work in once we finish school, and where we'd settle down. Our plans sounded so perfect in my head even as I think about them over and over again now. So where did things go wrong? Did I miss the signs that we weren't really that strong? And if I hadn't missed them, if we haven't missed them, will we still be together today?
Where did we really go wrong? I can't figure out because even now that I look at you from the other side of the school cafeteria with your new girl, I realize that I'm still in love with you. And I really hope that love, our love, was enough to glue us together. I wish that love was enough to make me braver and stronger for the future we planned to have, and for a life that always involved you and us.
You were perfect. You were smart and kind and nice and every single thing that ladies these days wanted their Mr. Right to be. You have everything figured out, for yourself and for us. You already knew what you wanted and who you wanted. Maybe we were perfect, too perfect, that when the moment came and we realized that we're not, we both crashed and burned.
I actually found it nice that you were perfectly prepared for anything. Until I didn't anymore. As days went by, the pressure to match your perfection was all over me like a dark cloud on a stormy day. Why did I always have to adjust and follow your timeline? Why did I always have to choose schools and courses that would be convenient for both of us? Why can't I just try packing my bags after high school and live and study some place else? Why did I always have to think of you and think of us? The pressure of being with you consumed me that it became exhausting and suffocating. I knew then and there that I had to stop it before it drove me crazy.
What if maybe, I love the thrill of the unknown and the future that looks a little blurry from where I'm standing right now while I'm trying to figure out which step to take next? Or what if maybe, I love a life outside the walls of the one I've always known? What if maybe I'm just scared of how perfect you are that I'm afraid to fail already because I will surely bring you and slow you down? So I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry that I have to leave.
We are young, and we have our whole lives to figure out what works for us and what our passions are. I want to be able to decide all on my own and do things just because I wanted to, not because we wanted to or you wanted me to. I love you but maybe I'm just not ready to throw away my dreams and ambitions out the window, and surrender every concern I have to you.
Maybe we're not meant to be together. Not yet. Or not just in this lifetime. Maybe we're meant to have a perfect life in our perfect world in the next lifetime or even the one after that. Maybe in that lifetime I'll be brave enough—brave enough to keep you and be with you, brave enough to hold you close and stand by you, and brave enough to never let you go.
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