Letters to My Love

Part 1

I do best with communication. To put it simply, I like to think if I were a Shagspearean character, my fatal flaw would be the need to communicate how I feel, honestly. Oddly, if I try to hold something in, my body starts to scream at me through physically manifestations, and it appears that I am sick until I deal with my emotional block. Let’s just say I’m not getting a Grammy anytime too soon for best actress, I wear my emotions too well. 

That said, there were some things that I wasn’t able to mention to you but knew I should for the betterment of our intimacy. Nevertheless, the conversations of us wanting this relation between us to be a thing, and the conversations regarding what to do when distance became the biggest obstacle still didn’t amount to the unexpected lack of time with you, boo. 

It seems that I ran out of time. The Wednesday you woke up with the flu, was the Wednesday that you opened up about personal things that few knew about. I felt honoured, and you felt that I might feel differently about you afterwards. I didn’t. The thing that bothered me the most was something mentioned in an earlier conversation about how you’ve thought about getting back together with a girl that you’re still on good terms with, and it was the only thing that bothered me. It bothered me to the point that while you showered, hoping it’d ease the flu symptoms, I thought about walking out without a word, but I chose to stay because I knew it had more to do with my insecurities rather than what you said. Ironically, despite my decision to stay, you left. Not right away of course. First, we went for soup. Then we stopped by Shoppers, so you could get meds and go through our last rounds of you insisting on buying me something. Then you swung by mine.

The last thing you knowingly gave me was a kiss after you dropped me off at home, and right before you pulled out of my driveway. The last thing I knowingly was left with, was the cold you gave me. I didn’t hear from you for almost a week. I even asked mutual and non-mutual friends to reach out to you in case this was a classic attempt at ghosting. Yet, they heard nothing either. Finally, I decided to check in Monday morning. I walked past a couple of neighbours smoking outside and asked if they could help me in. One allowed me to use their key to get in, but there was no answer once I knocked on your door. I didn’t stay long. I returned to the neighbours thanking them and asked a couple questions; they said they saw you the day before. Slightly relieved, and more confused, I went around the building, holding tears back, trying to find the next bus home. 

Then a man started walking towards me. I recognized him from earlier. When I was asking your neighbours for any information, he seemed to be lurking nearby. Thought maybe it was your landlord, ended up being your co-worker. He, too, was looking for you. Told him all I knew, and he offered me a ride home. Seemed like a good transaction. 

I cried a lot. Took a shower to clean off the cold sweat from the night before and hoped my tears would melt away with the heat of the water. I stayed there for a while. Thought I got all the tears out, but they kept on coming. Honestly, if I am being honest, I think my fatal flaw would be that I am a hopeless romantic and the fact that I dislike that part of me and constantly attempt to ignore it, ultimately ends with my downfall every time. 

Since you’ve gone MIA, this is my outlet although I hope that I’ll have the chance to tell you these things. But maybe this turned out for the best, you’ll go back to school and I’ll focus on my major thesis, with no distractions ha-ha. Anyways, until next time bb. Hope you pull through better than you pull out.  

Yours truly,
Shayla


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