#brokenletters

I want to explain what this blog is going to be for me.....I was recently in a relationship. I love him very much but I was not the one for him. This blog is going to help me say what I wish I could say to him. I'm going to use real names real story's and my real opinions. Each day I will right a letter to him that he will probably never see. That's fine I just want to write what is going through my head because I have no one to listen or no one that will understand my pain that I feel.

His Name is Billy Ungor and My name is Lorna Salvatore....

I love this man very much but I feel before I can write a letter I have to explain what happened from start to finish and how my love grew and his faded away.

This is well what use to be our story......

Dear M,

These past few months have been quite amazing and unique. Is it weird that I had such happy moments ? The summer was really sweet, even after this brisk spring.

I wonder if it was a way of managing my grief, or am I heartless ?

I've discovered a country I had loved from the beginning but not really known. I've found again people I had forgotten in my egocentric, selfish life over there. I've freed myself of some of my prejudices I had towards a certain vision and way of living. I've breathed, I've danced. I have, for once, fully lived.

I have found the path I want to take from now on. I never want to come back where I grew up. I want to live in wide and spiritually rich lands. I want to love people of different background than the people who used to surround me. I want to breathe a wilder nature than I ever breathed back there.

I am grateful for what she left me with. A newborn. A renaissance. A kind of new challenge. I still don't miss her. But I dreamed of her once. She smiled and she seemed happy for me. She was dressed in the same sort of dresses I liked. I was fond of them because that is the way she was usually dressed when she hugged me. When she kissed me. When she showered me with love and protection, and «God bless you, I will always pray for you my child ».

She also wore her familiar headband that I cherished because it gave her an air of wisdom and generosity.

She was wise I'm sure. And even beyond life, she is so giving.

Dear M,

I don't know how to begin this letter. Maybe I should ask you first to pardon my broken English. But this will fit with the general atmostphere of the correspondence. Broken letters...

Broken letters because something always breaks somewhere in our life. So it was with amazement that I realised I did not feel so broken when she left us. It was just so natural. I felt she was happy and rested. I felt she now waited for us somewhere over the colors of the sky and her appeasement just came to me so forcefully and peacefully, I coul not feel sadness nor anger. I only felt some kind of surrealism at the events unfolding so quiclky before us.

What has she become now ? Does she hear us ? Does she still love us ? Because with all my unbroken heart for now, I still love her so much.

Eventually I would miss her. Eventually I would feel empty, then sad, then lost. And loving her would hurt me.

Eventually, I'll be so broken that I will have no choice but to try to forget her, though afraid to let her go.

Only broken letters will stay forever, I hope, for her remembrance, for my survival, for my own eternity.

Yours.