Sunday, September 19, 2010

the last of you

i found you in a box today. a picture of you as a child. and i remember when you gave me that picture. so that i would always remember you. some sort of token that, yes, indeed, our paths crossed. that it meant something more than a chemical reaction, spontaneous combustion. i remember our first kiss, that moment right before. i remember what the air smelled like and how nervous i was that maybe it would be a disappointment. later, the regret that it wasn't. you know what i mean.

i remember thinking you were the one. back when i believed that feelings meant everything. rules didn't apply. that the idea of 'the one' was something to strive for, whatever the cost. i made bad decisions with you, for you, to spite you. i hurt your feelings on purpose and i pretended not to care. i saved every single piece of paper you wrote something on, proof. i filed away little tokens, romantic notions of past lives and crossed paths and broken hearts fueled by the idea that no one could possibly understand the way my breath held itself upside down when you walked across the room.

it took lifetimes to rid myself of you. to not physically feel pain when i found you creeping around the corners of my subconscious while i slept. i knew you had the same dreams. i also knew you wished you hadn't. that you forced yourself to stop doing it. you moved on. long before i did. just so you know, i felt it when you did it. i knew.

long ago, i let you go, too. i wonder sometimes if you felt it, too. that moment when i did it. it was freeing. to let go of something i never really had in the first place. to surrender the screenplay of the type of love story that only really works on paper, where real people don't live. because the flawed characters like us? there's really nothing romantic about it.

i fell in love, completely, with another man. something i never thought i would do when i used to think about you. and i kept the box of you filed away still. i did not keep it because i wanted to hold onto you. truth be told, i wanted to remember the girl i once was with you. that silly naive girl. because i had to be her to get to here. i honor her. she made all my mistakes for me so that i could finally be this girl, the one who finds a box in the back of the hall closet and doesn't feel the need to keep it anymore. the one who thanks you for telling her you loved her without following through. the one who thanks you for not choosing her.

because i wouldn't be me without you. and i wouldn't be me with you.


  1. I could have written this. It cuts straight through into my essential bits.

  2. wow - what a fantastic write. i know so many people that can identify with this same feeling....and i want to complete that last part - falling in love completely with the right man.

  3. Believe it or not...this post actually made me want to blog (for the very first time, maybe ever) about my divorce. Because for the first time in a very long time I let myself stop feeling ashamed.

  4. Boy can I relate to this.
    I still have that box in my closet....maybe for the same reasons you kept yours.
    Thank you for writing it.

  5. goosebumps.

    (can you believe the ways in which we're capable of messing each other up?)

    I read your beautiful comment on maggie's last post - i enjoy reading your comments elsewhere about as much as I enjoy reading your blog posts - you are a poet no matter your medium.

    anyway, my point is that gave me a little context for this. (whether accurate or not, it's part of the story for me.)

    moving words, krista. xo

  6. I love this post. It's so beautifully moving. I could feel him while I was reading it. And I can't wait until I finally let myself be free.

  7. i just stumbled on your blog and this post is amazing and moving and speaks to the 25 yr old girl that i once was who did the same, but couldn't articulate it as well.

  8. she made all my mistakes for me so that i could finally be this girl

    and then the last lines,

    because i wouldn't be me without you. and i wouldn't be me with you.

    my recent past. whoa. yes.


  9. Perfection.

    Further words unnecessary.


use your kind words.