Blog Post #38: Like an Angel Crashing Through the Roof

I agree with Alfred, Lord Tennyson. It is indeed better to have loved and lost. 

I’ve been in two relationships in my life. One lasted almost two years. One lasted two weeks. And somehow, the one that lasted two weeks made me feel more broken than the two years ever could have.

But more alive.

Sitting here in a bakery, listening to Debussy’s Reverie L. 68 in my earbuds clashing with Mariah Carey singing All I Want for Christmas is You from the bakery speakers, I feel alive.

We were friends first. Two friends who both wear glasses. I liked the way the light shined on yours more.

It took me a month to tell you I liked you. You said you liked me too, and I think that was true.

I always said I wanted a guy who would take walks to the pond with me. You always did.

I always said I wanted a good guy, a guy with a warm heart who used his brain. That was also you.

But perhaps you used your brain too much, because you were always conflicted. From the very moment we became a couple, you were conflicted.

You looked at me on Saturdays the way I looked at my ex on Saturdays. With the face of someone who wants to break up but is scared of hurting the other person.

Twice, I tried to set you free. One simply by telling you “go, be free”. The other time, I really tried to break up with you. I did. It was your eyes that drew me back. I felt your eyes peering into me, deeper than anyone had ever looked before. I wondered what you saw.

My friends always told me I was too good for you, I felt the opposite. I felt like I would never measure up to you. And I hated myself for it. And I hated you, for making me feel that way.

And I hated the way you talked like you were the most important person in the world. I hated the way you filled the room with your voice. I wanted you to listen, but even I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I hated the way you picked up your phone every split second, replying to messages and calls from important people everywhere. 

But God knows I could never hate you. I loved you. I still do, and the day may never come that I stop loving you.

But, to the one I loved for two weeks, the one that broke my heart in half a month, I must say one thing: thank you.

Thank you, because the rain has never felt so clear and cool on my skin, because Chopin has never sounded so emotionally wrought in my ears.

And because you were wrong. My happiness never relied on you. My happiness lies only within. It took a summer of finding myself and an extremely joyful yet lonely week in Montreal for me to realize that last part.

And I’m grateful, grateful to have experienced a love like that in a lifetime. A love like the most beautiful piece of music ever written.

I always thought I was the angel crashing through your roof, but I was wrong. You were the angel crashing through mine.