An open letter to my love, months before he left for nyc<3
My only hope is that you won’t be a stranger. It’s typical me, getting into a relationship where there’s an end date. It’s like I sought you out as a little gift for myself, granting what is normally a depressive spiral in summer a glimmer of love. Because I do love you. And it’s not like before; it wasn’t quick and it wasn’t infatuation- I didn’t hold you high on a pedestal, and I don’t think I ever could; because I now love myself just enough not to settle for a man who would look down on me. No, it was slow. Because I knew from the very beginning you would be leaving. And this, I told you- “You should let me go before I’m too invested. Too involved. Before I catch feelings.”
And we tried that, and I laugh at it now. Very early on, too early on, you had to learn that I wasn’t whole enough to be led astray. Knowing we had only until August, and me still not knowing but secretly hoping it will last beyond that, we tried to go our separate ways.
It was all manageable until I learned you cared for me. Maybe you don’t love me yet; and I held your face the last night and told you I understood this, you weren’t whole enough in your own way as we entered the relationship. But even without those three words, I feel loved. I feel like we are making each other whole.
Sometimes I want august to arrive. I want to wake up for a final time in your arms and whisper goodbye and be present in the acceptance. I imagine I’ll hold my hands to my chest trying to keep your warmth from escaping me as the door closes downstairs. I want the hurt to be now, and not something I’m anticipating throughout all of summer.
I’m excited for you- I think that fact alone encapsulates the love I have for you. I want you to be happy, to be young and experience New York City. But a little part of me, a part I’m quite ashamed of, wants you to miss me, just enough that it drowns out the noise of taxi cabs and strangers passing. Just enough that when we meet again, maybe you’ll hold me, and the warmth of this dreaded summer will engulf me whole again.
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