I loved you deeply; more than I could have possibly ever love another person.
I’ve been trying with all of my might. It’s taken every ounce of strength inside of me so far to get to this point. But man, it’s getting more and more difficult every day. I thought that it would get easier over time, but I guess I’m not at that point yet. I guess I’m still in the danger zone and I am terrified. I am absolutely frightened at the thought of not being able to get myself out of this emotional hole. And today, of all days, I am feeling particularly vulnerable. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but the truth is still there as much as I try to suppress and ignore it. The truth is this: I still miss you.
I miss all of those intimate moments that we used to share together on days just like this. It’s a lazy Sunday and the rain is pouring hard outside. We decide to just stay in and enjoy each other’s company and make do with whatever we can find around the apartment to entertain ourselves with. Maybe we’d decide to just sit on the couch and watch some Netflix. And then maybe the movie we were watching would start to get boring, and we then decide to take the action into our own hands. One thing leads to another and from the couch, we make our way to the bedroom. We make love to the sound of the television in the background. Our bodies are acting in a seamless unison and we are both practically drenched in our own sweat. We finish and we lay down in bed for a while trying to catch our breath. Once our heart rates normalize, we stare at each other longingly without saying a word. You give me a kiss and then we start the process all over again. It’s amazing.
Once we tire ourselves out completely, we decide to take a break from all the bedroom action for a while. I give you a kiss on the check and I tell you to rest for a bit while get up and prepare something in the kitchen for us to munch on. You decide to follow me out of the bedroom and you start playing something on the stereos so I don’t feel so lonely as I cook our dinner. I’d look at you just smoking your cigarette while you watch me cook and in that moment, I know that I am infinitely happy. I finish cooking and we enjoy our meals like ravaged animals. And then we conclude our wonderful day with another round of rigorous lovemaking before we decide to retire into the night. We fall asleep in a deep embrace; we immerse ourselves in each other’s arms where we feel a total sense of security and comfort. There is nothing but the sounds of our deep breathing and the mild spatter of the rain.
I’m not supposed to be thinking about all these things, but I can’t help it. I’m supposed to be putting all of these memories out of my mind, but instead, here I am placing all of them front and center; as clear as day.
I loved you deeply; more than I could have possibly ever love another person. You drastically changed my life but you already probably know that. My life is practically divided into two parts: me before you, and me after you. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to get rid of all of these thoughts.
I think about all of the little dates that we used to have, some of them magical, some of them disastrous, and a lot of them completely ordinary. But regardless, so as long as I was with you, I was always happy. I would think about all the times you came home from work bearing random gifts just because you had thought of me on the commute from the office. I think about all of the cheap little vacations that we would take with one another; how we’d argue all the time, but then we would always find a way to have fun with each other. I’d think about all of our deep conversations about life, love, and the universe as a whole. I think about all of our arguments, our jokes, the smiles, the tears. I think about everything about everything before it become nothing.
They are all but mere memories now. They exist nowhere but inside of my head and I am trying so hard to just erase them all completely. But it’s not so easy. How does one go about deleting a very essential part of one’s self? It’s not an easy task. I want to get rid of you. I want to stop thinking about you. But for the meantime, I just can’t seem to do so.
The more you understand yourself, the more silence there is, the healthier you are. —Maxime Lagacé