Dear Los Angeles,
I’ve been thinking about us every single day for four years, six months, and twenty-four days. To say the least, it’s far too much time for someone to be so consumed by agony.
We’ve been arguing about all of these “what ifs” and “what could have been” and what “should have been.”
The thoughts have ranged across the board, between hate, love, fear, sadness, future, past, and everything in between that and more. I’ve tortured myself in this way that’s so discreetly subtle. Unable to share you with those closest to me, because simply they would not understand “why.” Hiding you secretly, as someone who’s supposed to care deeply about me.
But I’ve been hypocritical. Standing behind this kind of shield that shows people I follow my advice, the appearance is that I would never let myself be that person who gets unquestionably lost in a relationship that was too seemingly difficult to leave. I have prided myself on becoming and living this mold of a person who is self aware, understanding, thoughtful, loving and never settles for anything less than what I know I deserve. Some think that this looks like confidence, and it’s not. It’s living. But we strive for these qualities. The independence, the optimism, the joy, the real confidence. Do we ever really achieve them all at once? Or do we all have this smile and energy that feels like we’ve got things under control, when in reality, we’re searching for just one.
These days, I’ve spent long nights, thoughts within thoughts of how do I? And when should I? Why can’t I? How come? And what will that be like when it’s actually over? None of us like loss, but that’s an inevitable thing, it’s just some is more severe than others. And with others, we can at least withstand the pain that comes with it. I’ve had these thoughts within thoughts about why I’ve put you in such a high place… and every single reason reminds me of how you demonstrated time after time that you did not deserve me. I don’t say that because I’m this unique person that you’ll never find anyone else like me. I know that, because even though there were a lot of times that I wasn’t great, and we may have fought a lot. I admitted to my faults and flaws every time, and I always worked on them. But you… you couldn’t do the one simple thing that I needed from you. Just one… a first, with you.
I’ve learned from heartfelt romantic comedies, and love movies that, you can’t have a bunch of “one mores” to make up or equal a lifetime, or to find closure in it. Because believe me.. I’ve bargained and begged for one. That is something you’d never give me, not even a singular chance. But I constantly overlooked what I needed, and because you made me feel pretty, and accepted, and comfortable, it lead me to believe that you were so much more than all of the things I didn’t want.
Despite your challenges, and mistakes, and despite even mine. There is no bad will between us, I just don’t have it in me anymore, because I did love you. That means, I could never hate you for what we’ve put each other through. And that still means, that I dream of a beautiful life for you, full of firsts, and one mores. A life that brings laughter, love, fulfillment, and a very long future.
As for me, the thoughts are more addictive than anything I’ve ever experienced. I don’t want to imagine my life with you in it anymore.
Turns out, you can’t find “the one” without a one.
I’ve used all my cards. I’ve said all my words. I’ve fought in the battle of “us” and I used to think that I was the one who was losing, but so contrary. You lost… beneath the ashes of our love, I was the one who stood true to myself and my heart, I gave it my all. You may have walked away feeling unscathed, but I was the one who walked ahead. You cowered in so many battles, while your strength may have been physically above me, I excelled in sharing and emotions. It has set me up to be able to open my heart again to find a love that isn’t a war.
This is my last letter to you, my dear darling Los Angeles.
With love,
Cec.
In Love With Los Angeles 