goodbye

December, 2009

It’s been about 2 years since we started growing apart, 11 months since we broke up, 10 since we’ve seen and spoken to each other, and about far too long that I’m still thinking about you. I've always told you that when we were going out you rarely appeared in my dreams. And now I dream about you quite frequently, and it’s the same deal every time. I ask how you’re doing, what you’re up to these days, because I have absolutely no idea. It’s so strange to go through everyday not knowing what you’re doing. It’s strange that I’ve gone through so much this year: graduating, applying to schools, interviewing, getting in and angsting over which school to pick, then going to Japan by myself, and then finally getting to this place. And every time, I thought of all these things that I would to tell you, but you weren’t there. So I would tell my friends, the people who I could actually count on. But at the back of my mind I would have liked to see how you would have reacted, what advice you would give me, if you believe in me, if you’re proud of me. It feels so strange that I’ve gone through all those things without you behind me, telling me that I’ll be okay. Why do I still want your approval or reassurance?

You know I see you sometimes when I’m out, at odd times of the day? I’ll see someone who kind of looks like you, or someone wearing something familiar, and I’ll look back a second time just to make sure. We’ve spent 6 years together and I showed you a part of myself that I never showed anyone else. And to suddenly have that gone, it’s a weird feeling. It’s not like I’m still in love with you, but I think I miss you as a friend, like a lot. I don’t know why you haven’t returned my text messages or my phone calls. Maybe it’s because you’ve moved on. Maybe it’s because you feel uncomfortable keeping in contact with me, I don’t know. But I do miss you, and I really want to know what you are doing these days, if you're doing something you love, if you're happy.

Because I am. I may not know if what I'm doing is the right thing to do, if it's something that I'll regret later, but at least it's a plan. It's something completely new and exciting and scary and I still question myself on a regular basis, but hey, I got myself here. So I hope you're okay. And that one day you'll decide to pick up the phone or send me that e-mail telling me how you are. In the mean time, I'll continue doing this myself. It's hard, but somehow I think I can get through it.

Goodbye, because I need it to be.