I still see you.

Dear Los Angeles,

Unfortunately, your ghost haunts me. I still see you in my thoughts and dreams. I don’t think there’s so much hope anymore, but a fantasy of you. The pouring rain I’m walking home in, and you’re waiting for me at the door. Or the nights where I’m lonely, you’re lying next to me, holding me closely. When I love myself, I imagine it’s you.

You’re this wild and taboo fantasy for me. Because six months ago, you ended it with me. Making promises you went back on, and breaking my heart over and over. Believe me, you’re not the only bad guy here… I know I had made a mistake. But let’s not forget the times in the past you also did wrong. So what are we, equal? That we’ve now both hurt each other many times and in many ways?

You were out the door before I even knew it… and the truth only came out during the aftermath. I have to believe you were saying mean things to defend yourself and justify your actions, because I loved you, and I was HERE for you. I didn’t change into someone entirely different or grow distant from you. AND if you did believe that, it was on you to have that conversation with me and share how you were feeling before you were stepping out the door.

But we look back at this and say “It was for the best.” I look back and say it was for the best. You were toxic, always have been since the beginning. And for four years I just refused to let you go. And now, I sit six months later, still somehow refusing to let you go.

This time it was really over though. I threw everything away, I deleted every conversation and photo, and thing that reminded me of you. I blocked your number for a while… I’ve never done that before. I eventually unblocked it a couple months later knowing you’d never reach out. Here we are, months without talking… and it makes me terribly sad. Because simply, I miss you.

I don’t know if time is healing. What I do know is I miss you often, and I cry a lot because things in my life get hard and I don’t have you to talk to like I used to. It hurts more that you didn’t even want to be friends with me anymore… I think about your ex wife, and how you and here are insanely close, you and her are practically still married… ya know? And I realize that maybe… maybe I really just wasn’t enough for you. In a non pathetic way, I genuinely believe that in your mind and heart I was a filler, and I just wasn’t “enough.”

All those times we agreed how we were something unconventional and special… well people in relationships always believe that. Every next boyfriend or girlfriend will be something special and unique. That’s just how love and dating and relationships work right? They’re always special.

You and I… I convinced myself we were. I still want to believe it. But as time goes on I guess, the truth is that I just wasn’t to you. You were so very special to me, you were my second love in my lifetime. And how I wish you would have been my third, we just never made it there.

I think so highly of you, and gave you so much credit. For how smart, and talented, and handsome you were. For how caring, and protective, and loving you could be. For how passionate, and funny and giving you are. But you didn’t give me that in return…

Everything hurts right now, I can’t wait until I forget about you a little bit.

With love,
Cec.