Day two is just about over. My resistance is ever weak. I want to be there for her like I have been for the past 6 months. I remember her at her saddest moments. I remember her when she was in tears, almost in the depths of despair, not because of anything in particular but because of what life had unjustly handed her. I wasn’t able to do much, if anything to help. All I could do was to be there sitting with her, but at least I was there. I realize that one reason why I cared so much about her and so little about myself was that through her moments of happiness and joy, even neutrality, I would find my own sense of happiness and contentment with her. 

I wish I could have given her everything she’d ever wanted and more. I wish that somehow, I could still try to do that. I wish that she hadn’t chosen to give up on me just yet because I know, in the depths of my being, I can go back to being the person she fell in love with. 

I thank the universe for at least giving me this outlet to speak, to type, to release because there is, there are not many people in this world who would actually care to listen. So I type, and I vent, and I release. Otherwise, I would withdraw deeper into myself and eventually go into a state of clinical depression. 

We don’t really want that do we? Well, I don’t anyway. I love myself too much. 

I would give her the world. I love her from the depths of my heart and soul outwards. I could most definitely find the strength and conviction to be who she needs me to be. Why can she not see this? Why has she given up on me so soon? How am I supposed to continue, knowing that I have the potential to make he so happy and anyone else won’t do justice to that cause. 

Thats all I want, her happiness and joy. I would leave her alone if she was truly and really happy. I just don’t believe that he can do that for her. Not based on what I’ve heard about them from her own mouth. 

I have flashes of memory. Good, amazing memories. I remember the second time we met for the second time. I was nervous, so so nervous. Walking onto that train in York to meet you was scary. I didn’t know if you would still like me once you had to see me in person. I remember what you were wearing, that translucent blue top over your grey dress, how you smelled. I remember cleaning my room earlier on to make it as presentable and as perfect as possible for you. I remember our first few awkward kisses, and then we got much, much better at it ;). I remember how we spent that weekend in bed, watched a few movies, well… we’d like to think we were actually watching them anyway. We talked about anything and everything. That I will miss, incredibly so.  I love you “nameless” :p, you have given me an amazing half of a year and I hope you have, many many more experiences like it and that you enjoyed it half as much as I did.

The most chameleonic of emotions and in its truest, most primal form as rare and elusive as the craftiest eye floaters. 

“When you are young, you are hoping that the person will be the right one, the one you are going to be in love with forever. But sometimes, you want that so much you create something that isn’t there.”

The human mind can hold absolute power over us, able to make us believe and see anything. We can create connections that aren’t there and form memories that never existed. Sometimes by wanting something so much we become willing slaves to the machinations of the brain. In the sense that we allow it to form these connections and memories to facilitate our own desires. How then do we differentiate between what is real and what has been fabricated by our subconscious? 

Before I continue I would like to make one thing clear. I do not intend my words to act as a guide to anyone’s life but my own. Every single experience of love or its pretenders is entirely unique and I am simply attempting to encapsulate my own. 

In my opinion, the differentiation comes, pardon the cheese, from within. Logic dictates that if we can allow our minds to take control, we can also withdraw it and begin to see the truth. In addition to this, there are some things in our lives that we simply know. Like when you leave your front door unlocked and spend the entire day wishing and hoping, trying to convince yourself otherwise only to go home and find the door wide open. 

I know I love her and I’m going to tell you why.

She is special. There is not a single person I have met in my many years of existence who can make me feel the way she does. She makes me smile effortlessly and is able to engage me in conversations about anything. She is my intellectual equal and refuses to believe it. Paradoxically full of vanity and self-doubt, I am still trying to fully understand her and I’m hoping I will get there soon. 

She bites me and pinches me till I bruise and attempts to give me fake CPR when I fake fainting. I love these things. Granted, most of you won’t appreciate this without context, but I think the best love stories can never be generalized. 

We can lie down for hours together, watching each other play plants versus zombies, avenue flo or burger bash (though I despise burger bash because it is one game my brain refuses to play well). There is no pressure for me to be anything other than who I am from her and I can truly appreciate this. She does me a really amazing service just by accepting most of who I am. I say most because like any relationship there are still flaws in my character that need to be rewritten. 

I love the way she knows me so well. She knows exactly what to say to me, what I don’t like to hear and what I do. She can see past everything I try to put forward. Every facade, every hidden angry moment and every hidden anything. This isn’t always a good thing, because it means I can’t keep anything from her, but I would rather have this than anything else. Theres nothing I would keep from her anyway. I feel, comfortable and open with her. In a way I never have been with anyone else. 

There isn’t another girl who I would look forward to discussing bowel habits with and this is simply another quirk of our relationship. We, by some random chance also share exactly the same taste in music. There was a time where we would be shocked that the other had heard of the same song, much less liked it.

She has two moles on her forehead, she calls them bill and ted. I think they’re incredibly cute. I love a lot of things about her. The way she looks when she bites her lip is just adorable. Hahaha, every few minutes in a day I get a flash of something she’s done while we were together that just make me laugh out loud. I love her ugly faces. When I would tell her to kiss me, she would make this ugly face, rolling her eyes and puffing out her cheeks or something - that face, I could marry. 

She has this amazing belief in me. She truly believes that I can be as successful as I want to be. She has never once doubted me or my abilities. She’s the only one. There is no end to the appreciation and, just self worth that I feel when she tells me this. It’s a really good feeling. 

I don’t want to live without her. I could sit here and think about everything I could list down about her that I loved, but it would be quicker just to say there are not more than 3 things I dont love about her. I fell hard, fast and deeply for this girl, this amazingly beautiful, passionate and strong willed person. I love her.

The saddest thing about this kind of love is that it was doomed to fail. I have to let her go. I have to let her go because she is happier without me in her life. As perfect as she is for me, that’s about as ill matched as I am for her. There’s no more to say about it that matters. I honestly and truthfully want her to be as happy as she can be, because she deserves more than I could ever give her. I don’t know if I can truly say goodbye. She means so much to me, and any attempt I’ve made before to let her be, has been foolishly futile. But if I truly love her as I claim to, I will.

It isn’t supposed to be so complicated.