To My Ex-soulmate With Utmost Gratitude

It is a love letter but I dont have the nerve to send to my ex-soulmate.

Do you remember the day when you first asked permission to hold my hand? When I first hugged and kissed you? For sure you did. That was one of the teenage pleasures that my consciousness will never forget. I’m happy for what happened was real.

It wasn’t a black and white experience. It was rich with colors, beautiful; beautiful colors that converge in one to create a masterpiece- the portrait of love. But you know most masterpieces of love are raw. It won’t be beautiful without the color that symbolizes the pain. For some reason, the creator of that portrait has to place his brush on halt. It has to end but it is still love.

We thought we can go in sync with each other but our ego boundary has to defy such. We are not one.

I loved you, beloved, and still, I think I do. Or perhaps, I don’t. I suffered for I let myself carry the burden of anxiety and solitude, of which you didn’t understand or simply noticed.

It was your course, to run from the past, to dash into the future. And you did let yourself suffer too – just by being enslaved by that curse. I salute you by the way; I salute your heart of stone. Or is it a cushion masked by stone?

Thank you. It is in your absence when I realized the importance of my environment. I have watched the sunset not by mere eyes but with the perspective behind my sight’s capacity. I enjoyed the night for it is then when I realized that I can be free – not bound to anyone, not conforming to any responsibility. I mess around, probably, a sign of depression, a symptom of being conquered, and a mere evidence of vulnerability.

Have you heard of “Passive dependency”? Perhaps, I had developed such with you. Sometime, after you left, you did too. I might be wrong. I can be right. Furthermore, I commend you for standing on your decision, never turning back.

I hope you will be back – return from the state where you are you. The person I know. It is difficult, I know, for the irreversible changes already occurred but I can help. The circumstances can be molded, as long as I still love - still love- in the past, now, or the future.

The smell of the smokes of pain remains. The very smokes that can make me feel the rush of nostalgia. The awesome smoke that creeps into my soul and place the thought of you into consciousness. I hurt you. Deeply, this hurt seeps the affection you had for me. You were silent. You appear numb but you too were in pain.

Time can never be dragged. What had happened can never be amalgamated to the present, only for the days remaining for us to live. Our love was a simple emblem that once two mortals felt the euphoria and breathed the paradise while still standing on earthly the soil.

Recall the day when you held my hand, ex-soulmate.

 

 

Author's Note

some lines here are written by pauline dominique tarrazona. thanks dear, for the companionship.

Reviews

[Rhonda]

This is interesting. It seems like ex-soulmate is an oxymoron.

Nice job.

-R

[Lyrical Love]

This is a true heart-felt healing piece. It is so often that we mistake some as our 'EX' soul-mates AS THE ONE!. I think once the true soul-mate enters your life there is such a presence of realness that compliments you in such a way (you learn that the ex(s) just prepared you for the real SOUL-MATE.
Thanks for sharing such a personal experience/write.

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

Thats so sad , we all have so much to tell out ex solmates if ever they were willing to listen Yos