…and this time – for real

You could ask: how do I know that it’s really for real now?
Well, Honey, I truth – and, this time, not the ugly but the faithful, real, joyful one – is that I know it because of the lack of my feelings for you. It’s over. I feel nothing for you anymore.

I don’t know why or how, I have no reasons, it just happened (like a fire once in Josephine’s kitchen – but that’s another story). Maybe because I have never really loved you. Actually, I know I have never really loved you. Love is not what I felt. It was more like a kind of desire… partly for you, partly for the experience of love itself. So it could have been anyone else. You were just in the right (or – from your point of view – the wrong) place in the right time. Just in front of my eyes.  A coincidence? I don’t believe in such a thing. But still… it just happened, I didn’t mean to like you, but I did.
And nice as I would seem to say it was just as easy to go through you as easily I got to like you. But the truth is  - another, maybe that's the ugly one - that it was a long, long and hard process. Full of looking backs and new hopes.

I don’t know why it came to its end point just now, but I’m glad that it happened eventually. I didn’t do anything else than before, and no, Honey, you didn’t change, either. Maybe that’s the point. None of us changed and we have never meant to be together. Seriously, dude. You and me? That could have never worked. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I just had to realize this. The fact how far we are and have always been from each other. We couldn’t even have a real conversation. Like never. For a long long time, I tried not to face this detail believing – or, frankly, making myself believe – that that’s not important. But come on, I do have to face this: I’m not that kind of girl who can be together with someone without words. (Not even if I still think I would never throw you out of my bed if you ever asked me for letting you in.)

Maybe it was not you I really liked, but an image who I have dreamt for myself. I imagined what you would do and say in certain situations because I had no clue – at all, seriously – what you would do and say; I didn’t even know you. And most importantly, I have never been able to understand you. You were my riddle, but not one which would ever made me happy. Okay, that’s not true. Some three years ago, after I realized I liked you, you made me happy with your words. But that was a long time ago – sometimes I even start thinking whether that really happened or it was just an imagination; it seems so unreal today –, and the (sad?) fact is that talking – or even trying to talk – to you can’t make me happy now. Actually, it’s more like a troublesome work. A physically hard work. So maybe that’s it. I could face the fact that we were not meant for each other because I started not to enjoy our conversations. I found no joy in them any more. They turned into painful struggling and that’s totally not what I want from my boy.

That’s not you fault. That has never been you fault. Ever. You have never said anything like that to me, you never made me believe you like me, you never played with me. Your only guilt in this is that you were too generous because you didn’t mean to hurt me. But come on, that’s not the way it is. Truth is the only one thing that counts. Even if it seems more painful for the first sight. But – and you have to believe this to me – because the pain is bigger, it goes through you faster and that’s the main thing. Fast killing, you know? That’s the generous way out of things like that. But you didn’t help me at all. You just let me struggle instead of killing me fast with your then-cruel-looking words. So I had to figure this whole thing by myself, and that was the hardest way. That was a really long and painful road to pass along. I’m not angry with you, I’m just telling it for your future knowledge. Next time, you will be smarter. Be that, please, do that only one thing for me.

The only thing why I feel sorry for letting you go is that my ’prince’ lost his face this way. Everything I imagined with your face had disappeared, and there’s no other face what could replace yours. Waiting for the prince is nerve-wrecking if there is no given person to dream of. Not as if waiting for a face you can never get would be easier, it’s just different. For me, it’s a whole new experience. This is the very first time I have no face for my prince – even if most of them in the past has been just my short expiration crushes.

But that’s it, My Snail, thanks for having known you – even if hardly – because I learnt a lot about the world, about life but mostly about myself from the situations I went through with you – or rather:  with wanting you be with me. I feel no anger for you, I don’t regret anything, you are not guilty in anything – on purpuse –, but I lost my feelings for you.
I just hope you don't think of me with anger, either and don't see me as a silly, awkward chick disturbing you so long.
Whether I am sad? No, Honey, I rather feel freedom. And tranquility. I finally freed myself from you. And freed you from myself.

And as my last words to you, I don't say goodbye - because, you know, saying goodbye means forgetting and I don't want to forget you -, so I say something else what I can say sincerely and with all of my heart: I wish you a happy life, My dear Snail!

 * angolul, mert angolul született meg bennem - who knows why...