The Departed Lover
Longing is a wall, love is a window, and longing for love is a prison of memories.
“I’m not going online anymore; I’d rather do something else with that time.” Is this the moment to announce the end of our love?
Countless nights, I reminisced about every bit of being with you. In those early days after our separation, tears were the best remedy for my pain. After crying, I always felt less tormented. That year, the happiest moments were just dreaming of you, dreaming of being with you. Why did we break up? Was it because of the distance? That was the most comforting reason I could tell myself.
Thank you for not giving me a clear reason back then. Friends who knew my story told me, “Don’t be sad; you’ll forget her in at most half a year. Time is the best medicine; it can heal the wounds in your heart.”
Six months, six months have passed. I still miss you, but I no longer cry. I still take out the letters you wrote to me, looking at your elegant handwriting, and the front of the envelope that says, “Kiss from your husband.” I tell myself in my heart that I will find you again, and we will be together again. I imagine you have not gone far, that you’re still around me, that I can still feel your presence.
I went to the place where our love began. I saw our old classmates at school. Our old friends are living happily. They asked if we were still together. I smiled softly and said, “Yes, we’re fine.”
A year later, I believed my friends’ words: time is indeed a good healer. I have accepted the fact that you’ve left me. I no longer look at your letters or your photos. I only reminisce about the happy times we spent together, remembering every minute we were together.
When I returned to the school again, the tightly locked gates, the classrooms filled with cobwebs, and the overgrown weeds on the playground seemed to indicate that this place was no longer worth remembering. It was as if everything was declaring that it was all over.
A year and a half later, I had grown accustomed to letting my thoughts drift to the skies while watching TV, imagining the lead characters as you and me. I got used to imagining every figure that resembled you on the crowded streets, imagining you suddenly appearing in front of me. Watching couples, I imagined the scenes of us once holding hands.
Two years later, my life became very peaceful. I could forget you now, although you still appeared in my mind, the feeling wasn’t as strong. I thought, by now, you must be nestled in a warm embrace. There must be someone who loves you more than I did. I lived a regular, unremarkable life, without color or waves.
Two and a half years later, I no longer thought of you. I could say, “I don’t love you anymore.” I heard nothing about you, no news at all. I could accept other girls now, although nothing had started yet. But I felt that if I were with her, I would love her.
Heh, a fairy tale? Do you still remember who I am, still remember my birthday? Accidentally, I learned many things about you that I never wanted to know. Everything about you still affects my emotions. I didn’t want to return to the life where I missed you.
I admitted it; I haven’t forgotten you. Maybe I never will. But I know we probably will never meet again in this lifetime. Even if we do, there won’t be any relationship between us.
Oh, my lover, the person closest to me besides my blood relatives. After a breakup, how much of this bond remains? I can feel none of it now. But if you ever need my help, I will still do my best, even if there is no relationship, just because we once loved each other. The title “lover” associated with you has vanished.
If one day, it is given to someone else, I will tell her, “I had a relationship once. Although it ended, I still remember it and probably will never forget it because I invested my love there. I will place it in my memories and then love you wholeheartedly.”
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
