#lettersfromceline

Whenever someone needs an opinion on something, I say “oh, my boyfriend and I went there. We really liked it. He ordered the mussels and I had the fish.”

I choose to drop the “ex” out of politeness. Ex is such an ugly word. So bitter sounding. Am I bitter? I don’t think so. But the wound is still fresh in my heart.

I’m happy I can speak of you in good context. I’m happy I smile when I think of times we had. And I’m happy I was able to just HAVE those times. I’m happy I experienced you. I’m happy I had someone to hold me. I’m happy I know someone is capable of loving me. Not only physically, like other men have. But mentally and emotionally.

I used to believe you could doubtlessly love me. That you were going to be my Forever Love. The man I not only married, but the man who I stuck with through the obstacles life tends to throw. The man who when everything seems like it’s going terribly wrong, you would be there as my one wonderful thing. You were my guiding light. When everything seemed like it was at its worst, I was happy I at least had you with me to hold my hand.

And then there was the stage of grief that came when you left me. I said over and over in my head, “he NEVER loved you. Not once. Not even a little.” Because how could you love someone and force them into the most traumatic experience of their life?

And now, I’m here. Still weary of the idea of “loving again”. Still hurt by the things you did. But I can now confidently say you DID love me. There was a time when you locked eyes with me and you had the most serene look of, “I am so lucky”. Or there were times I would do something seemingly normal, and I would catch you staring at me. “What’s wrong?” I would ask. And your response? “Nothing. You’re just so cute.” And you would kiss my forehead and I would go back to doing whatever cute thing I was doing.

Or there was the time we were lying in bed and you told me, “hey Beb? Remember when we were getting empanadas a month ago?” “I guess?” “Well you were doing your Beb dance (Beb dance is just a jig I do. It can occur when I’m buying new shoes or when anything involving food happens) when we walked in and it was just so cute!!!” “…I always do Beb dance though.” And you said, “I know. But. There wasnt any music and you were just so happy and in your own world. You didn’t notice but everyone was staring and it was obvious they were thinking the same thing I was” “they were staring?! What were you thinking!?” “Look at how cute that tiny girl is.”

And I cherished every single one of those moments we had together. They each have a space on my bookshelf heart. And sometimes, a word or image will remind me of a time. All I have to do is slide a book out, flip through the pages and read. And each time its different. Sometimes I’ll smile, sometimes I’ll tilt my head and scrunch my eyebrows in annoyance, I’ll laugh, I’ll cry, or I’ll nod my head in disbelief.