A Letter to Sea

I remember you told me once that you had a middle name, it’s always on the tip of my tongue but I can’t quite get hold of it. 

I loved the way you sang, you had a beautiful voice, but I don’t know why I can’t remember asking you to sing for me but that one time we fought and I thought that I could mend things by paying attention once in my life. Focus, that’s the word that keeps spinning in my mind endlessly, as I never mastered the art of listening. You always listen to me, ask me about my day, and even though I always answer by the same phrase every time “it’s been fine” but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting for you to ask me every time, my heart starts pumping and I get excited as it shows me that finally someone cared enough to ask but I never was that someone, to you at least. 

It wasn’t just me; everyone wants to be asked about their day, everyone wants to be listened to, even you who was always there for people to vent for as long as I can remember. 

I’m sorry that I hurt you when I told you that I was never going to listen, that I was never going to pay attention to your stories, to your pain, or even your moments of happiness or sadness. I am sorry that I never asked you how you got that scar on your hand, whether it was an accident or a dog bite, or maybe something deeper or scarier. I am sorry that I never got to share the pain you feel, I could tell you were always clinging to something, that you were silent. And I never even bothered to ask. 

I wonder what’s so hard in asking someone a genuine question, something deep or even light, I guess because we’re all terrified of the unknown and what it holds in store for us. I never paid enough attention to actually predict your answers, they were always unknown to me.

 I was terrified that I had to play the role of a savior as you were once mine. But I am no savior I am afraid, I always thought that I was a victim but if that were to be true, then I’d be a victim to my own mentality and thoughts. 

After the lash of insecurities that I dropped like a bombshell on you, I could tell that you were terrified, terrified of losing me maybe, but I need to say: I am afraid you lost me the moment that I stopped caring, the moment that I stopped paying attention, that means the first day that we met; I remember that day clearly now, a winter day, the rain was pouring hard but I got to see the rainbow somewhere else. I know that I begged you that we could stay friends after that because I was afraid of someone rejecting me, of the same old experiences to happen again and you accepted wholeheartedly, hoping that I could change this time; that this time I meant it. 

I guess I was the one who rejected you in the first place.

As I am sailing my boat to leave your shore, I see you standing there under that willow tree with the wind playing with its leaves, I could see you standing right where I left you or maybe you were walking slowly, but I am utterly sure that you were calling for me to fight for you. 

How could you still find mercy after all the hurt I’ve put you through? 

I apologize again for not fighting as I cannot fight for people. That was never one of my qualities, we always end up leaving each other, I am paralyzed by the fact that I don’t want you in my life anymore, how could you not see the signs before and left when I treated you heartlessly or when I ignored you in your biggest time of need. 

As I end what’s remaining of this relationship, I promise that I’ll mourn your departure but I also promise that you’ll be fine without me as I am a useless human being full of self-doubt and insecurities. I promise that you’ll move on slowly as you’re one of the strongest people I know, also one of the most positive and cheerful, the center of every laugh I’ve heard or a smile I’ve seen. I mourn for that smile that I will never get to see again. Still, I promise that you’ll find someone better, better than I am, someone, who you actually deserve, someone who’s going to be there for you and watch you grow, who’ll support you like I never did and never could. I never even got to read that poetry of yours. 

As I finish writing this, I could actually see the ending of this, seeing that train approaching and you riding it. Is it taking you home? I wish you well on your new adventure. I am sorry that you’ll never get to read this letter as I’ll throw it with the wind or maybe burn it but at least I could get to finish it with the lyrics of this song that I could tell you love without even asking a song that we’ll never get to sing together.

Yours truly,

Sorry for breaking your heart.