Art by James R. Eads
We were so excited about one another, he thought I was 'hothothot' and I liked his black tight jeans on his skinny legs. He had blond hair and blue eyes. I adored his smile and his voice soothed my soul. He lifted his eyes and smiled at me when he was playing his acoustic guitar. That was the moment I knew I loved him. It didn't take long. The hill was green and I tickled him with a piece of grass. His call tone was an angry Seether song. He asked me to be his. And I was his. His fairy and he was my unicorn.
We had a summer full of love and fun. Old mad grannies shouting at us for making out in front of their windows. We visited his garden house. We spent the night. Booth of us wept when he had to leave for Denmark. His tears were on my fingertips and my mascara was on his cheek. But then I realized that I have to go and get him. So I did. It was the best decision. We were happy. We were sad. We were together. And that was what mattered.
We were so full of love. I took care of him when he was ill. He took care of me when I had my cramps. He stroked my hair and played me his guitar and I'd sing to the tune. We would go on night walks with our hands tied together, my little hand in his and his in mine, exploring the old cemetery which always looked more beautiful than any park. We would go and look at the stars in the snowy Horse town. We would buy food together and eat plenty of noodles and yummy sandwiches. We made love and love made us. I used to laugh and then I cried but then I laughed again. I felt secure. Love made us happy. But it also made us teary - eyed.
He always took care of me. Even more than he took care of himself. I was his center. But sometimes he was sad. I always wanted to light him up. I wanted to be his sunshine. I tried and sometimes I failed. Sometimes I got angry. Sometimes he got angry and walked out on me to smoke a cig. I would cry because I didn't want him to leave me. Not even for a smoke. Then he would come back and we hugged. Hugs would always resolve everything.
Even if I cried, right in front of him, he would always comfort me and tell me that things will turn out fine. And I know that now, even after everything, he would still always comfort me if only he had the chance. He's a wonderful person, a unicorn if you will. His heart is made of gold. Even now. Even after everything.
As the time passed we learned so many things about one another, we had our fights, but we would always make amends the same day. He used to sleep a lot and sometimes I would feel very lonely. He used to play his video games with his friends and I would feel lonely too. Then sometimes we played Mortal Kombat together. We'd binge on Breaking Bad. We'd binge on Game of Thrones. We'd drink shitty Danish beer together. And we would walk in the Bygholm park. We were as one, but sometimes both of us were lonely as fuck. Even together.
We had our cozy room and our blankets and our pillows. We had our panda sheets. We were in love and it was the best feeling. I used to be very sad when we would get back home to our parents and we couldn't sleep in one bed. See, sometimes my feeties get really cold and he would always warm me up. Even the slightest distance felt terrible.
More time passed. I used to go out alone more than I did with him. He was severely depressed, but he would still smile at me and care for me as if I was his tiny beautiful bird. Sometimes I couldn't get up from bed and felt caged. Yet I still loved him with every piece of my heart. I made him wonderful meals. We sometimes giggled and tickled each other. Sometimes we would slow dance in the kitchen. Sometimes we wouldn't talk.
We started packing our things for our move back to Lithuania. He was excited and hopeful for life. I was stressed, yet I believed that everything would fall to its place. That we'd end up together. Because I felt safe and loved. I was tied to his love.
Today we met for the first time after two weeks. We met at a place where we first said goodbye to each other and shook each others hands on the very first day we met. He seemed so tired and pale. He didn't look happy, he looked heartbroken. I tried to play tough because I was hurt. We walked in silence and my skull felt the tears coming. I couldn't speak out a single word. I lost my cool. We stood on the hill where we first got together. We cried. I offered him a napkin. I could feel my heart splitting to a million painful pieces. I adored him.
We talked. Agreed that this wasn't the last time I was seeing him. I agreed to let him text me if he'd want to. He wants to know how I am and how I'll get on with my life. It's heartbreaking, but it's peaceful. I asked him to kiss me for the last time. He didn't want to hurt me. But I just said that it's okay and that I wanted this. I was shivering and shaking with tears. I held his hand, we hugged a lot. He kissed my forehead. I wished him happiness but he said that I shouldn't talk like it's the last time I see him.
Because it wasn't the last time. He's not my ex. He's a person that I love with all of my grieving heart. I'm grieving for the true love we lost somewhere along the way. And if I don't speak up, it will forever linger inside of my soul. If I don't cry it out, it would just stay there like an open wound that never heals. I am sad, but I am happy. I am at peace. He's not my ex, he's a wonderful person from my life that happened to know me to bits. Above everything, he's my best friend. How can you not keep a person with a golden heart. Golden like sunshine. I want him to shine. He deserves more sunshine than anyone I know.
In the meantime, I will take this time to heal. And be a whole me again. I don't regret a single second. If I could, I would relive every moment. You have to love your person while you can. And if you can't, you have to let him go.
Ir aš niekad tavęs nepamiršiu, R. ♥
We started wth love and we parted with love.
My heart hurts, but at least it's at peace.