The person who gave you your favorite memory

17th December 2010

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The person who gave you your favorite memory

Dear you,
By the time you’ve finished reading this, you, and you alone will know this one is for you.

It’s that time of year again, the time you begin reliving everything that’s happened the past twelve months, comparing life now, to life back then. You go through the days, as the faces and places pass through your mind, you find yourself smiling to yourself, or wallowing in self-pity.

This past year has been the biggest learning curve for me – and it all started with you. I spontaneously took off to the other side of the world, I experienced my first relationship, yes, I went to rehab again, but I came out stronger, wiser, and content with a sense of who I really am.

You told me once, “Although individually people may be complicated, the best relationships/friendships are simple.” I buried those words with my time capsule, in the same place we entered the new year together.
I can’t find the words to explain what’s going on in my head tonight, maybe you gave too much of yourself away, you lost it, you lost yourself.

Come back.

I don’t want this, to feel this way, to fight for you, fight for us, fight for something I don’t even understand. But I am a fighter and I can’t give up yet. Date your girls, I’ll date mine, light up their lives until the candle burns out. I’ll be around to mop up the molten wax, I don’t mind the burns, I’m stronger than that; you know this. Just know, I’m a light bulb; my spark takes a lot more to extinguish, and if you have me, I’m around for a lot longer.

I’m sorry if this is too much, if you want to be left alone in the dark, you need to start telling me. Some people prefer that; I understand. But there’s always a demand for light bulbs, from in hanging china lanterns to in delicate intricate chandeliers. I am worth it. And I think you know that. But unless you tell me, there’s an array of lampshades around the corner, other people, and one day, one month, one year or five, I will have changed and grown and I won’t be the right fit for you anymore.

So tell me something like you used to. Tell me I’m worth it. Or tell me that you’d prefer to wait for the next generation of reliable light source.
It’s all okay in the end; you win some, you lose some. Stop the complexity and make this simple.
If you can’t change it, at least don’t let it change you.

Here’s to you, and here’s to that night. I couldn’t have done it without you. But the real point is, I wouldn’t have wanted to.

From,
Something you’re missing