was it ever meant to be?
I never expected myself to be writing Lutteo again. But after weeks of being in the most miserable state Iâve been in months, it led me to writing this. I donât know how but it just did. Anyways, Iâm thinking of picking up some old drafts and finishing them. But not totally sure yet, weâll see. But for now hereâs this mess that I wrote at 2AM last weekend. Partially inspired by the song Moral of the Story by Ashe. Bye.
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At the ripe age of 18 years old, Luna had felt like everything in her life was at the right time and place. She gained full rights and ownership to the mansion, she was more confident and passionate about skating than she had ever been before, her parents happily supported her every step with open arms and endless love, thriving in their own careers as well. And Matteo.
They fought so hard for their relationship. So many highs and lows and arguments, makeups and breakups, laughter, kisses, silly banters, duets. Everything they did together every part of their journey every step of their way, this was their peak. They finally made it to a happily ever after, everything now in their relationship full of love and cherishment. They loved each other so profoundly, so wholeheartedly, like neither one of them had ever felt or experienced before.
That whole summer of her being 18, endless date nights at the park, the movies, the beach, in the sheets of her bed, carefree and fun. There were no worries to be had, no stress of school neither had worked. Just the two of them, the whole summer, in each other's arms for as long as time let them. That was their happiest and simplest of times. And the moments that they would look back on most when they reminisced on their better times. - Luna comes home as quietly as possible but also struggles to maintain her noise level from how exhausted she is. She quietly takes off her shoes and kicks them to the side in the shoe basket by the front door, before stumbling to the couch, face forward plopping her body down. She had gone into work at 9 am and it was now almost 11 pm. Normally her days aren't this but when the national skating competition is weeks away, being one of the coaches, as well as being in the midst of planning the launch of her own skate collection in a few months, free time just doesn't seem to be a thing for her anymore. And she loves all her work, she wouldn't throw herself this much into it if she didn't. She felt she had the energy to take on a lot of projects at this time in her life, however, it takes away time from her little family, who she misses every chance she thinks about them during work or in her day in general.
She hears creaking footsteps coming from upstairs making their way down. "Luna?", she hears a woman's voice calling. However, Luna doesn't say anything or move to get up, but just groans loud to indicate that she was there. Soon the footsteps get louder and the somewhat softer when the woman is standing right in front of her. Monica. With her arms crossed in front of her. Looking a bit stern at her daughter. "You said you'd be home by 9," Monica stated in a hushed voice. Luna rolled over onto her back and rubbed her eyes, not caring is she smears her hours' old makeup all over her face. "I'm sorry, I tried. But I kept getting pulled back with last-minute things," she tried to explain. Monica winced. "Well, the girls missed you tucking them in tonight. You need to make it up to them."
Her daughters. 11 and 6. She would never in a million years forget about them under any circumstances. They're her whole world. But on days like these, when she misses being with them most, yet can't come home, it pains her deeply.
Luna covers her eyes with her forearm trying to steady her breath. It's been quite tough on all of them. It had been a few months since she separated from her ex-husband, Thiago, an ex-world renown skater from Uruguay, whom she had met in her early professional competition days when she was younger. Perhaps they had rushed their relationship too fast, she had thought over and over during the process of their separation. That they had married too young, she had gotten pregnant right away. So much had happened all at once, she had thought her life had been completed and fulfilled. A winning world skating champion, married with a family, living comfortably in the mansion that was passed down to her from her Abuelo. She could absolutely never complain. She believed she had practically won at life.
But then she stopped believing in those fairy tales endings. She did still have a lot going for her with her career, and she still has her family. But now being divorced at 36, ending her marriage barely over a decade later. That was a huge hole in her heart that could never be easily mended. Not with all of the heartbreak that ensued, the crying, anxiety, what seemed to be like endless counseling meetings. She can't bring herself to think of anything else without crying.
Just like she is now, blinking away tears as rapidly as she could, concentrating on her breathing steadily. There's a part of her that wishes she had never met Thiago. That the root of all her problems, the stem in which this part of her life began. But then her children wouldn't exist. And for that, the other part of her still believes that she wouldn't change a thing. Her being still young, she has so much life to live and experience. But to have to drag this ache in her heart for the long haul, day after day, dreads her in every possible way.
Luna wipes her eyes once more sitting up and nodding her head, feeling a bit more steady. "Don't worry, of course, I will. I'm taking tomorrow off and we'll do something together," she attempts as smile as she tells her mother. Monica nods, her lips curling up a tiny bit as she kisses the top of her daughter's head. "Ok, I'm going to bed. Are you coming up?" she asks. Luna looks around the living room, not quite ready to get up yet. There's something pulling at her to make her stay. And she can't quite tell what it is.
"I'll go up in a bit," she whispers. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, mom," Monica nods and turns towards the staircase. "Goodnight, Luna." and her footsteps begin to grow softer again, creaking as she walks up until Luna can't hear her anymore.
She looks around the nearly dark and open living room, exhaustion continuing to weigh down on her. She wants to go to bed, her body is telling her to. But her mind is telling her something else. She notices some weird angling of a painting on the wall across the room. It was straight but somehow open? She walks over to it, and it appears it was indeed open. A painting on a hinge, like a door, with a secret compartment.
Now Luna had definitely known about this, she had just forgotten it had existed for a moment there. She opens it a bit wider, very slowly and carefully in the case that it caused a loud creaking sound. But once it's opened, she notices a small stack of journals and photo albums, on top of a shoebox. Curious, she pulls them out, grabbing the first thing on top of the stack and studying it closely. Her eyes adust and immediately pop open when she realizes that they're a collection of photo albums and skating items from when she was a teenager. Excited, she takes the stack with her to the couch, pulling her legs under her as she sits, ready to be hit with a wave of nostalgia.
The first little album was all pictures of the competitions she had competed in at Jam and Roller. All the sparkly outfits she wore, the routines with SimĂłn, the songs she sang during Open Music. Another rush of tears had quickly begun, blinking away at them once again. It's been years since she had seen most of her old friends there. She talked to SimĂłn pretty frequently when she could and he would sometimes come to visit. But the girls like Nina, Jim, Yam, Delfi, and Jaz, it had been years since she had seen them. She had them on Facebook and would be able to keep up with their lives somewhat, but never on a personal level like she used to.
There was one person that hit her heart in an instant when she laid her eyes on him. Matteo.
In almost every photograph in the album, he appeared. Whether in the background as he skated carelessly on the rink, not paying attention to a nearby camera, or a simple photograph of just him and Luna, their arms wrapped around each other, smiling at the camera. He was always present. And now Luna lost control of her tears again.
She picks up the next album, although it hurts a bit more when she realizes it was only pictures of her and Matteo, during the course of their relationship.
Normally when people break up, the first instinct is to get rid of every single trace of their existence from your life. Photographs, gifts, useless junk that at one point used to mean everything to you. But for Luna, she couldn't bring herself to do that.
When they broke up, Luna was shattered. She felt her whole world had crumbled at her feet. It was one of the worst things that happened to her in her life, behind losing her birth parents and Abuelo. She missed didn't come out of her room for days, crying and crying in her bed. She couldn't bring herself to skate for a few weeks. Missing several big trainings, putting her career in jeopardy. She was able to save herself from that and was able to compete that season luckily.
But it hurt her as much as it hurts now with her separation. She had given most of her firsts to Matteo. She loved him in a way that only her teenage self could truly describe. She loved him, she loved him, and in a way, somehow, she still loves him. So that's why she kept her things. Her first love. It's not something you can get over in an instant. No matter how hard it was, she wanted to remember this first in her life. First love in her life, first heartbreak. In a way, she's grateful she stumbled into these things at this time. Because although it resulted in heartbreak, it brings her back to her teen years, where her only worries were skating and school, and in those summers, being in love.
Luna wipes away at her face again and closes the album after flipping through the pages, she opens up the shoebox, mentally prepared as what to expect. A few things lay in the box. Old love letters from Matteo, a few movie tickets and carnival game stubs from a few of their dates, a flash drive of some songs he had written. But one thing that had really caught her eye was the necklace of the strawberry and the sun. The one that he had given to her on her 18th birthday. Not only had she hung onto it because she knew how expensive it was, but because she had worn it every single day of their relationship. It had meant everything to her. It was the most sentimental thing she had of their time together. That, and the blue plastic ring he had bought her before they had gotten back together. Unfortunately, she had tossed that back to the lake once they broke up for good. She had instantly regretted it when she did it. But once the deed was done, there was no hope of getting it back.
But she held the last remaining treasure to lips, somehow hoping that it would bring her back to a more peaceful time. She admired it in her hands, glimmering in the moonlight peering in from the bay window. How beautiful it was, how precious it had been. It made her smile. For the first time tonight, it made her genuinely smile.
-
After she had gotten into bed, she picks up her phone, looking at the time. Past midnight. She should be going to bed. But curiosity got the best of her. And she opened up Facebook, typing a name she hadn't typed in nearly two decades, into the search bar.
She didn't think she'd find him since she hadn't heard anything from him in ages. But low and behold, it only took a few scrolls down the list to find a profile picture with a face she'd recognize anywhere in an instant. Matteo Balsano. Right there in front of her face.
His beard made him appear very adult-like, of course. But she doesn't know why she's surprised. She knew he wouldn't be looking like a clean shave 20-year-old the rest of his life.
She continues to admire his face, his sunglasses, and his hat. It made him look a little bit like Joe Goldberg in You, which makes her giggle for a bit. But overall, pretty decent looking. He's Matteo. Changed, but deeply rooted, the same person she fell in love with all those years ago.
The next thing she notices is his credits. Where he went to school, where he's from, all things she previously knew as she grew up with him. She notices his workplace and job. Producer and Songwriter at Island Records in New York City. She always pictured him more of a rock star, writing and singing his own records, touring around the world. It's one of those conversations she remembers she had with him when they were together. One night on his bed, cuddled into his side. Their plans together. Of how once she was done with school and wasn't in training and/or on a break with competing, she would tour with him, seeing him rock out on stage every night.
Oh, how crazy and different things turn out. For both of them. One minute they're planning their lives together. the next they're on their own, being taken on journeys they had never expected.
She continues to scroll down. She can't access much, as his profile is pretty private and can only see profile pic and header updates. But her eye catches the little grid of public photos he has on display. The first is a wedding photo. Him holding hands with his bride, kissing her very profoundly. a few snaps of a soundboard and a microphone, song sheets, his guitar. And then a photo of a baby in a bassinet. Newborn and so tiny. She smiles sweetly at the adorable little human on her screen. The next photo is of Matteo, woman, and their little boy, who looks to be about 4 years old, sitting on a bench, with his parents' arms wrapped around him. Judging by the date, it was only posted two months ago.
Instead of feeling any envy or jealousy towards him or his wife and little family, she feels a warming sensation in her soul. She smiles at the rest of his photos of his personal life of his family. She feels so happy for him. How he has his dreams accomplished, proudly on display. All she ever wanted for him was to be happy and achieve his dreams.
While no, they weren't able to make it work, they both appear to have lived fulfilling and adventurous lives. They would never be able to make it where they are now without having been at each other's lives at some point. They both learned and grew into prosperous and accomplished human beings, having learned from one another different lessons and exploring their own desires.
Sometimes you fall in love with the wrong people. Or sometimes you fall in love with the right people but at the wrong time. Luna doesn't know which one happened. But that time she was blindsided and addicted in love with him. And she's eternally grateful for that time being. She wouldn't change a thing.
In the end, not everything works out the way you want it to. Like it didn't for them. But it will be alright. It's better for them the way things are and will continue to be. Separate ways. Growing and learning on their own, no matter what battles and emotions come her way. It wasn't meant to be. And that's the moral of their story.
