An open letter to a man of my dream

You will never read this, because you are far away and foreign and probably don’t even know this platform exists, but it is something I need to say, something that needs to be said, and so here I am. Saying it.

I met you in a dream. Really. For years I had dreamed of the life I was living when you came along, and when I say years, I mean just about my entire life. I was where I wanted to be, with people better than I had dreamed up, having perfect day after perfect day. My life was sparkling, magic, real and true. It was just a snippet of a grander picture, but still, it was exactly my dream.

And you were never a part of it, but I welcomed you with fun-loving, open arms, tiny expectations if any, and a heart full of daisies and rolling green fields. Simple and pure was my heart, and so were you.

We drove through the mountains, dark and cold on a June night. American folk music and dancing headlights, I couldn’t believe this was my life, you were next to me and I was next to you. I was physically staring at the stars that had aligned. On the balcony was the moon, white and crisp, and inside there was piano playing from your computer. A tiny mountain apartment that felt like a million bucks. I met you in a dream.

But then reality circled back around, and I slowly awoke from this dreamy life. It was back to school with the same people, same place, same day after day after day. I fell into things that weren’t so dreamy and blamed it on youth. I made choices misaligned with my ideals, and still called you when things hit rock bottom, again and again and again. I was afraid and lost, broken so deep knowing that my dream was real, that it happened, and that now it was over. All that was left from the dream where I met you were remnants of spontaneity, courage, and unstoppable passion.

When I saw you again, two impossible worlds collided and I shrunk back in fear. A version of me farthest from myself was in charge, and the choices I made were based in fear and shaming love. I shied away from the things I wanted most to spare the feelings of the people who mattered least. It was me, yes, but a different me than who I am today. I am not proud of that me back then, but I cannot, will not lie and hide away once again behind excuses. I spared my feelings and crushed yours. Now as it comes back around, it is my turn to be crushed by the weight of past decisions and present circumstances.

But this is not about my feelings but yours, not about my life and circumstances but yours. Although it’s useless, I cannot help but wonder about the path you could have taken had I done things differently, had I done anything at all. I need you to know I am sorry. I was sorry back then, too. I was pathetic and inexcusable. I need you to know now, because I wouldn’t dare utter it then, that what I did was wrong, and I knew it even as I was doing it. And we can look at it now and say that we only remember the good things and that we learned from those experiences and can move forward with new knowledge and insight for the future, but all I can see is the poor knowledge and insight I had in the past. All I can see when I look back is how puny I was when you were so big for me. All I can see is how I never showed up for you when you crossed an ocean for me.

I am not a girl to beg for forgiveness. I know that this is personal for both the doer and the recipient. I am not a girl to desire sympathy and pats on the back. These, too, mean little to me. I am also not a girl who can live with doing damage unspoken of and continuing on in false ignorance. So this is why I write this, an open letter to a man from my dream, to acknowledge the damage and announce my awareness of the pain I caused you, us. Worse than hurting someone I loved was ignoring that I hurt someone I loved. I am done ignoring what I did to you, shrugging it off and pretending I had no choice. I hate myself for choosing to hurt you, but it is a choice I made and must own up to. I am sorry. I hoped that enough time would pass between the choosing and now to heal my insecurities and bury my weaknesses, but they are still gleaming and bright.

You are healed, and I’m happy for that, but I can’t help but imagine what might have been. I wish I would stop. I wish I could go back and at least make one right choice to show you I cared. Oh, I cared. So much. I was only incompetent in showing it, and I apologize for that and more. I hope that our lives continue and more dreams unfold for the both of us. I hope that we guard each other safely in our hearts for forever more, but know that our paths have run the courses they were supposed to run. There is the universe, others and us.

I hope that we make the right choices. I hope that you know I am sorry.

It’s said.

Always yours for the summer,

me