subject line: her love.

 

bend, oregon.

I’m married now. You’re getting married in three weeks.
Remember when we thought for years that we’d be each other’s forever? Remember when we used to sit on the stairs in that townhome, and you’d sing me “Anything but Mine,” and you’d change the name to mine?

I love him, but you still come up in my mind. I wonder if I still come up in yours. I wonder if you love her like you loved me - passionately, furiously, but so guarded. Are your walls down with her? Does she love you better?

When I think of her walking down the aisle toward you in three weeks, I bite my lip and hold back tears. Tears of longing, regret, and false realities that I built around you.

But then I look at him. And I realize that you were never it. You were never my forever. And so in the next three weeks, before you tell her for better or for worse, I’m going to let you go and jump fully into this life that is without you, forever.

Remember that line in our song? “In the midst of the music, I tell her I love her, but we both laugh because we know that it isn’t true?”
I wish I would’ve known that line held deeper truth for us than the lines saying that I’d never be anything but yours.

Goodbye. I’m everything but yours, and you’re everything but mine.