Letter to the Boyfriend

Us two years ago.

Us two years ago, on the way to Chicago.

My very dear and cherished Phineas,

Throughout this blog, I haven’t written much on our relationship. Partially because I didn’t want to be that girl who talks incessantly about her perfect relationship with her knight in shining armor. Partially because I respected your privacy and the fact that you didn’t want me to start this blog in the first place. Mostly because I had no idea what to write. You see, when I met you, I thought I had the girlfriend thing down. I’d already sustained a previous long term relationship in which I knit him sweater vests, baked him cookies, and wrote him snail mail. By the time we broke up, I thought I knew all about love and pain. Boy, was I wrong.

It’s been two and a half years and I’m just learning how to love someone. How to love you. I don’t think humans are born knowing how to love. They are born with an immense capacity for love, but someone still has to teach them. Most babies learn from their parents how to love unconditionally, fearlessly, hopelessly. Though my parents have shown me an incredible amount of love, I grew up not feeling loved. I grew up full of fear and dashed hopes. I learned to love conditionally, because those that are closest to you can use your love in the most twisted ways. I learned that someone I was supposed to trust could betray me in the blink of an eye. In short, I didn’t learn how to love properly.

So, of course, I was really bad at loving you. I lay out conditions, figuratively and literally. I ran away from you when I couldn’t stand losing you. I tried to destroy myself instead of letting my love for you destroy me. When I told you point blank that I didn’t love you, you were the one who believed I did. When I didn’t love myself, you were the one who stepped in. When I told you horrible things and did horrible things to you in order to push you away, you always came back for me. Many would say that I was unfair to you, that you should have left me long ago, that you didn’t deserve my bullshit. And they would be right. But this is love we’re talking about — all is fair in love and war. In love, you can’t keep score. Nobody really deserves anyone else’s love. Because we’re all fucked up and anytime we can find someone who will take us, it’s a damn miracle.

You’ve loved me, so wholly and unconditionally, that I am ashamed for the times I disrespected you. The times I left you. The times I hated you. You’re the first person to show me that I could love myself unconditionally. That I could fail my classes, never publish a book, be rejected from law school, etc. and that wouldn’t diminish my worth one bit. What a novel concept. You’re the first person to teach me that life is about more than success, wealth, achievement. That none of that matters without happiness. You’re the first person to worry that I might be the saddest person on earth.

Us this past weekend, on a getaway to Mackinac Island.

Us this past weekend, on a getaway to Mackinac Island.

Thank you for every day we’ve spent together. Even now, well past our “honeymoon” phase, seeing you makes my day. We always joke about how I act like a puppy, and it’s true. I wait for you to come home to me, and I never fail to jump up and down out of excitement. A dog is a man’s best friend, but a man is a dog’s best friend as well. Just as long as you’re around, I feel that I might be able to conquer this thing called life. Life ain’t pretty, but somehow when life gets the ugliest, our love seems the most beautiful.

Here’s cheers to this roller coaster relationship. I swear to god that I don’t intentionally cause so much drama. But maybe I subconsciously feel the need to make up for the fact that I can’t ride real roller coasters. Though you might have a full head of white hair (sexy silver fox!) by the time you hit 30, at least you’ll be entertained well into your 80s. Well, maybe 60s if you don’t cut down on your salt and sugar intake. Oh, are you flossing your teeth now? You know how it gives you three years more life, right? Anyway, getting off topic. I truly hope we have many more years of happiness to come. Even if life tears us apart — can’t fight fate — I’ll never forget our time together. Nobody will ever know me like you have. Maybe that’s a fortunate thing.

Until tomorrow,

R

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10 thoughts on “Letter to the Boyfriend

  1. You really love him, you know. Don’t lose him… it will be the greatest regret of your life…. and you’ll never, ever forget, ( that’s according to my mother )

          • LOL

            Oh, no, Mom and dad only have each other….. married and happy …. but Mom and I have had some conversations, and apparently, there was a man who got away… entirely her fault…. and to this day, she still thinks about it, and regrets.

            • Oh oops, my bad. That seems like a bit of an awkward conversation to have though…in any case, I’m happy that your parents are happy together! I do believe that, even if you do let someone get away, you can still find someone else who’s just as good or even better down the road. But of course, if you start letting all of them get away, then you’re in trouble!

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