Goodbye My Lover, from James Blunt. This is the song I used to listen to 10 years ago, when my heart tried hard to let go of what felt like a dam. It was an overpowering feeling. It could light up an entire city. A gargantuan monument - created by men. Fears and shadows. A breathtaking landscape - made of concrete. A ruptured dam that although magnificent destroyed everything ahead of it.
This is the song that I picture you listening to while you feel the sorrow of an unfinished love story that harmed you in some ways while making you feel alive in others. I felt the pain of having to let go from a splendorous harmful love. And it makes me think of how hard you've tried to be with me while managing all these feelings within you. How hard you've tried to be with me, while staring at that dam - from a distance. To surrender to me, while holding it tight - so it wouldn't break. To love me, while knowing you would have to walk back and face it.
So now, when I look back, I think our story tasted like fresh coffee. Strong, warm, comfy - that we hold nearby and the smell makes us close our eyes and smile peacefully. A fresh coffee that is all that, and yet ephemeral. When one doesn't drink it immediately, it gets cold. Warming it up is useless after all - coffee loses what makes it good quickly. And maybe a year ago you would not mind drinking cold coffee. Now I know you do. Perhaps cold coffee becomes less attractive when someone is preparing a new one. Especially when this someone is our own selves. Fresh coffee is good because it is fresh.
I miss that taste. I miss the careful work of preparing it. Filling up the kettle, waiting patiently for the water to boil. Grabbing the pot, measuring the right amount of powder. I miss feeling it in the morning, planning it for the weekend. Its warmth in my hands. I miss bringing it to you on a busy day. I miss everything that accompanied it. Smiles with closed eyes under the sun. All nighter dissertation. Screaming the lungs out on Shakira. Tough conversations. An alcoholic spice while chasing the Northern Lights. I miss that short-lived taste. I miss that firm, hearty, cozy taste.
But I had never seen us like that. Like a liquid we put in a cup taken from the cabinet. Something we enjoy for a while, and leave somewhere with some undrinkable residue at the bottom. So it is still weird for me to witness the fragility of our relationship. To observe its sublimation process: from solid to steam. From life plans to confusion, rage, and silence. To complete emptiness.
Maybe, to protect my heart, I've turned my face to the signs that it could never be more than that. Perhaps I've turned my face to you because I was afraid to see the truth. Maybe I didn't offer what you needed. I wonder how much of you I haven't seen while I was right beside you. Maybe I was selfish. Maybe I am not someone you want to have as a partner, maybe not even in your life. Maybe. I don't know.
It's been almost two months since I told you that I wanted to try again. Almost 60 days you told me you would let me know when you were ready to talk. When you told me: "I will really let you know. It won't take long". Maybe this silence is the answer. Maybe not.
Two months ago, I did want to uncover this bunch of "maybes". I did want to listen, learn, and try again. Now I'm thinking that, once more, I am being blind and selfish. Again, I am refusing to see you. Once again, you make it clear that you are not available to me emotionally. Through acts, through words, through the absence of them. That is why I write these words. To try and expel the words that I am realising will never be said. To remember the songs that will never be sent. To feel the feelings I will never share.
I swore that I would listen to that song from James Blunt no more than once. And trying to warm this coffee up is bringing that same bitter taste to my mouth. My mind is feeling abandoned and betrayed. But my heart is done hoping for more. My mind refuses to close this story like this. But my heart just wants to surrender to gratitude and acceptance for the cup we have shared.
Goodbye my lover. I hope we don't ever have to kneel at someone's feet again, in our pursuit for love. And although we know we have not been the one to each other, I love you, I swear that's true.
