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Letters From Alex™

A collection of poetry and prose.

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Go back to living over 300 miles away. Go have a family elsewhere. Be in isolation over there. I don’t want you here. Not anymore. Run away like you did before. No need to say goodbye. Just take your things and never look back. You were really good at that. Maybe then, I’ll finally love the distance between you and me.

You turned my favorite spots into ghost spots. For a long time, I avoided going anywhere I thought I might see your face— whether from my own imagination or because you’re physically there. You ruined my favorite restaurant because I have a memory embedded in my brain of that time you locked the keys in your car and had no way into it without a locksmith. “It happens all the time,” you said and that it would be easy for you to unlock it from the moonroof you always leave open. So, we drove down many streets to finally find an “L” shaped tool fifteen minutes later, just to get your car unlocked. Every time I go to that restaurant, I’m always haunted by this memory. It’s like I’m living two lives at the same time— my mind in the past and my body in the present. Because as I stand where you once stood, I see your face, I see your body, and I hear your laugh, but I can’t seem to find you anywhere. I catch myself smiling at this memory sometimes, but it always fades, immediately. I guess I finally understand what it feels like to be happy and sad at the same time.

There are two types of expectations: expecting nothing because you shouldn’t and expecting nothing because you’re constantly let down. Promise after promise, they’re broken each time. Apology after apology, they lose their meaning each time. “I’ll be there for you when you need me,” they say, but they never are, are they? “It won’t happen again,” they say, “I’ll change,” but they don’t, do they? You’re let down each time, so much, that you’ve trained your mind to expect nothing from them because the last thing you want is to get caught up in your hopeful mind just to be disappointed once again. But the biggest disappointment of all is yourself— for letting them do that to you, for being there for them on their terms, and thinking this is the best you’ll ever have.

Wondering about all the what if’s is torture. There’d be mornings I’d wake up thinking of you and wondering, what if I never met you? Then, on nights when they’re lonelier than most, I wonder, what if you came back to me? Would I greet you with open arms? I hope you did love me and I hope that love never faded, because you deserve to forever wonder all the what if’s too, so you can understand the pain you put me through when you left the way you did. It may have taken three years to move on, but I’m so grateful to finally have closure. Congrats on your marriage.

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