subject line: signs & silence & moving on

 

chicago

I wrote almost a year ago that I couldn’t bring myself to delete your voicemails. Today, I finally did it. I listened to every single one of them, just once, and then took a deep breath and clicked that red button. Yes, I felt like I was losing the last part of you that was still in my life. But I also felt like I was finally letting go of you, and despite the two brownies I stress-ate afterwards, I felt oddly lighter.

I still think we missed our chance. Maybe it was our fault, or maybe life just got in the way. Maybe it doesn’t really matter what happened. But we loved each other in a way I’ve never loved anyone before. It was you; I was sure of it. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t you. Maybe it could have been you, but it wasn’t, and after a certain point the “maybes” and the “could haves” can only keep hurting us.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been slowly falling for a boy whose smile stretches a little too far to the right. His eyes light up when he talks about music, and he gives me butterflies when we talk on the phone. Maybe I will keep choosing him and maybe he will keep choosing me. I certainly hope so.

I don’t think there’s only one person for each of us. There are people we love and people who love us who come in and out of our lives. Sometimes it’s beyond our control, and it’s hard. But choosing one person, choosing a single direction to move forward in life (which is, really, all we can do) means closing the door on the “maybes” that we’ve kept around for too long. They say that when one door closes, another opens; but I think we need to close some doors ourselves in order to walk through other ones.

Now I don’t get the “voicemail box full” notification every time I open up the inbox on my phone. I guess deleting your voicemails made room for more people, more voices, more life, and more love to fill up my inbox. I’m closing the door on the “maybes” and the old voicemails, and I’m choosing this life.