To the one, who wasn't the one.

I waited a year to write this letter. I let all the pain simmer down, to gratitude. In the past twelve months you have gone from my only thought to not even a second thought. You have become, my love, a character in a tale from times gone by. An experience and a memory of who I used to be. You probably wont read this, nor any of my work. If one of our mutual friends mentions it, you probably wouldn't even bother to ask what is said. You'll expect anger and accusations, please understand, this is neither of those. It is a letter of appreciation and good will.

When we first met I thought nothing of you other than the good looking guy who tipped well and wore tight T-shirts. You were the drunken fool, clumsily trying to court me. You'd lean over me, smiling when I selected Rod Stewart on the jukebox. If anything, this is what made me agree to join you and your friends on a night out after I had finished my shift (after you had wore me down over a matter of weeks) You seemed to see me, and appreciate my quirks. The first kiss was clumsy and tasted of cider and succulence. I tried to tell myself it would be nothing more than a brief fling. I was wrong.

Within no time at all we didn't spend any nights apart. Ours wasn't a candle that had a glow, it was a Roman Cracker, that burnt fast and furious. You weren't my first sexual partner, my love. But you may as well have been, you didn't pry me apart like those other boys, greedily stealing my sweet nectar, you patiently let me bloom, only taking what I would happily give. You became my greatest achievement. My belonging. I could not believe how you, glorious you, had chosen me. Nothing could make me feel as warm as when I turned from the oven to feel you behind me. Knowing that I was cooking a meal you would lap up before devouring me for desert. I had never felt true pride in myself, until I saw it in your eyes. You were home, in every sense.

Recently I was reading a book of love letters, I found myself thinking of you. How you would encourage me to one day write our story. How you never wrote me one. I realised, it was the first time I had thought of you in quite some time. I wondered how you were, if like me King Of Anything didn't sound the same anymore. It was ironic really, how it was our favourite song. I mean, of course our song would have been about heart break.

A love like our was never destined to be everlasting. It was the first love, the devastating love that rampages through your house of dreams, leaving nothing but a trail of ash. Only our Polaroids survived the flames. When we began to fall apart we clung desperately to one another. We both shed tears that morning, the first time we said we were over. We were both to selfish to let go. Duct tape went over the cracks. I moved jobs, you stopped drinking as much. We always blamed external sources, not accepting the issue was us. A broken ornament here and there was worth it if we had our life together, right?

The morning I left for good there was a serenity in the air. I know you felt it too, there was no hesitation to leave your car. The skies were clear that Sunday morning. We both spoke in calm and hushed tones. We both laughed. We spoke of each other with a respect that had been unseen for many moons. We both knew. It was the end of our chapter.

We were naive, my love. We planned to bring a child into our toxic wasteland. I remember how every month when I felt the first cramp, how I would cry. Convinced my body was broken. In hindsight, it was my body telling me what my heart could never see. We were never meant to co-parent. The first month after leaving I was terrified, what if I was. What if I was carrying your namesake, without you to guide it through life? What if it was all a sign, should I have stayed?

 My love, you have found love, and I have too. My love may be for myself and my words at the moment, but I know I will love another when I'm ready, maybe not as intensely as I did you, but a healthier, happier love will follow. I've never been good with remembering dates, no longer can I remember our anniversary, but December the 11th will always bear a mark upon my soul, no longer will it be a day of grief, but a day of gratitude. It was the day we let one another be free.

Now, this is not going to be easy to read, for you or your girlfriend but I really hope you do. I hope you see now that I can see the truth, you two are more compatible. I hope you go the while. We were never really right for each other, I had big thoughts and you wanted to belong to a small tribe. I hope you are both well, that you are both pursuing your dreams, I hope you learn to work through your issues, I hope you've learnt from our very own cautionary tale, I hope people stop telling me when you have a fall out - it is not my quarrel nor has it ever been, I know a lot of cross words have been shared amongst us three. I apologise, but I don't regret it. My love, you've taught me more about love and sex and pain, than any stories ever did.

So now, after recovering and mending my own heart, it is time to send you one final letter. This is my olive branch, not for friendship, just to drop the ill will. I no longer love you, but I wish you the best.

You are no longer my love, my love. You may come to see,

You were a mountain, I was the sea. You will stay rock steady, I will roam free.