Ever since we parted ways, I’ve really tried my hardest not to think about the potential our love story had.
I do my best not to think of everything we could have become and all the could haves, should haves, and might haves.
However, I don’t always succeed. There are moments when I can’t help myself so I end up tripping on how happy we could be.
Not only that: I often catch myself thinking about what would happen if our paths crossed one more time.
What if we got another chance to correct our mistakes and to make things right?
Would we waste the chance? Or we would make the best out of it, grateful that life had given us another shot to be happy next to each other?
As much as I try to avoid having this meaningless conversation with myself, there are times when I can’t help but wonder: were we wrong or was the moment wrong?
Were we just too immature to handle the magnitude of love that was sent to us or were we just not meant to be from the start?
Maybe we would have made it if we had met in different life circumstances.
Maybe everything would have turned out differently if the timing had been right: if we had been older and had the experience we have now.
Maybe everything would be different if we met now, after all this time. Do you think that we would stand a chance?
After all, we’re wiser, smarter, and more mature than we used to be, so I assume that we wouldn’t let each other go so easily.
Back then, we didn’t appreciate each other and were convinced that we would find another romance just like ours right around the corner.
We didn’t know that what we had was more than special–that it was a once in a lifetime kind of love and that we’d spend all our time afterward looking for each other in everyone we encountered.
We thought that love was enough for everything to be perfect.
We assumed that the butterflies would last forever and that it was the end when they disappeared.
I guess we were too immature to be aware of real life: we didn’t know that true love needs fighting and building and that it’s much more than being crazy about each other all the time.
Maybe we were destined to go our separate ways before we meet again. To grow up individually before we can grow together.
Maybe we had to spend some time apart, to find ourselves before finding each other. Maybe we had to part ways in order to cross one another’s paths as better and improved versions of the immature kids we once were.
Is it possible that God separated us for a while because it was the only way for Him to bond us forever in the future?
That He put us through all these hardships so we would learn to appreciate each other, in a way we never did before?
Maybe we were supposed to meet all those wrong people just to realize we were the only ones right for each other all along.
Maybe I should have tried to love all those men just to see that you are the only one in my heart.
Maybe you should have slept with all those women just to see that I was nowhere to be found.
Maybe we should have felt each other’s absence because it’s the only way to appreciate our presence.
Or I am just making things up? Am I imagining everything and turning our love story into a never ending fairytale, just to comfort myself?
Am I just lying to myself? Am I actually running away from the truth and refusing to accept that we have been over for a long time, that our moment has passed, and that the past is never coming back?
Have I been delusional for all these years? Or I am holding on to all of this because deep down, something is telling me it’s the real deal?
Either way, I do know one thing: whether this is just false hope or my intuition, it’s the only thing keeping me sane and emotionally alive.