To The One Who Got Away (But Keeps Coming Back)


Hello stranger.


The length of time I have to wait for your responses is like having a pen pal and I’m waiting for your snail mail. And even that is possibly quicker. Yet after we get pass the awkward small talk, we pick right up from where we left off. For the most part, I appreciate the calls and your efforts in reaching out. Its nice to know I still have someone like you seven thousand miles away. But there’s something we both know, something we’re too scared to acknowledge.


When we were entering high school, I adored you. You loved music, and were never shy to sing for me. We’d stay up all night on the telephone just talking because my parents didn’t let me stay out late. And the butterflies you bred in my stomach just kept on multiplying. But just as when we were about to start dating, your family had to move. Little did I know it was the beginning of multiple goodbyes.


We tried to keep in touch over the years. We finished school and remained friends who’ll get to talk once in a blue moon. Then reality will pull you away from me, again. It was a pathetic cycle of shameful hellos and uncertain goodbyes. And boy, did we try to build something in between those. We’re always on the verge of starting something, but never really pushing through. It was tiring for the both of us.


The last time we spoke on Skype was years back, but you messaged me just last week. You apologized for disappearing on me when we were obviously crossing some line into becoming intimate. For the nth time. And we wouldn’t be going through all of that if there wasn’t something there, right? You said you couldn’t help thinking about me and reaching out; hoping everything’s going to be like it was before.


We’re connected on every possible social media and online chat as possible, but what are they for?


The truth is, we fell in love with the idea of us. More than 15 years have passed since we saw each other in person. I loved you for everything you were back in high school. And maybe then, we could have been great. Hours turned to days; weeks turned to months, and before you know it, a century has passed us by. Today, I have no idea who you are anymore; and you don’t have any clue as to who I am. We try to grasp as much of our teenage self as we can, but there’s no reason to. Going back to how it was before isn’t going to be healthy, or even possible at this point. We have grown over the years – we have grown apart.


So where do we go from here?


I have no idea. All I know is we have to find a way to get the shame out of our hellos, the uncertainty out of our goodbyes. Until then, I will be waiting for you to come back and I am willing to start with a clean slate.


Are you?