A Letter To My Ex- II

Dear Ex,

I’ll skip the explanation for writing this letter to you. Because it is not you that I write to. This letter is merely adressed to you but is, in fact, meant for all my innocent and meek girlfriends who have, fortunately, not come across any “you” yet. As I now know, unfortunately, without experience or a first hand warning-like this one- it is impossible to tell you from any other guy that may truely deserve them. You do camouflage rather well.

Let me start by reminding you who you are. You are a smart, handsome, popular, over achieving, well to do guy. Every single girl’s dream. A knight in shining armour. Only till the armour comes off to reveal the cruel, calculative, cunning and heartless bastard that you really are. I wont take away the credit of your good looks, wealth or popularity from you. But that is exactly where you end. At superficial achievments. In your case, the water runs no deeper. There isn’t a kind human being or a genuinely warm person inside that shell of fake smiles and cleverly scripted lies. Everything to you is a profit or loss equation. Every person only an object to use to get to something or someone else.
My neighbour’s cat has more emotion and love than you. And my neighbour’s cat is pretty much cold and emotionless, to put it kindly. Sometimes I think she is secretly devising a plan to nuke the earth. But then, she is still more humane than you are.
What amazes me and is also sad is the fact that in spite of your character being nothing but grey and patches of dark, you have too many admirers and friends to validate it. Perhaps it is true that we value material wealth, physical appearance and surface achievements over kindness, honesty and loyalty.

Before people form the mental image of a scored ex girlfriend (that would be me) of a downright amazing and admirable you, Let me jump straight to our “Break Up”.
Why did we break up?
Because, over a cup of coffee with a new friend I was informed of a person who looked exactly like you, went by your name, lived in your house, was taking the course you were but was in a “committed” relationship with this new friend of mine. Strange, right? Strange still is, she met you through another friend you were previously dating. But as it turns out, “previously” means “presently” in your dictionary. A little background research and stalking later, another invisible ghost floated up to the surface. You prepositioned a girl on a recent tennis tour.
What did I do? I tried to confront you. Yes, I was still open to “talking things out”. Yes, after realizing that you were not two, not three but four timing me. I hoped against all hope that I will wake up one day and have someone tell me it was all a bad dream and now its over. I wanted, more than anything else for that someone to be you. The things love does to a person!
What did you do?
You ran away. You stopped taking my calls. You would not reply to e-mails. When you moved to a new place for college, you did not give me your new number. And then, you fell off the radar. You wiped all traces of your existence from the face of earth. “Us” became a beautiful dream that never really happened. And “now”, an ugly truth I was left to deal with every day.

It was not always like this. There was a time, which seems eons away from me now, when you held my hand through a dark tunnel of loneliness and despair. First, as a friend. Then, as a companion. There was a time when we held between us the self proclaimed world record for talking on the phone for the longest time, 20 hours to be exact, without a drop. I was alone at home and even a dead twig fluttering in the wind outside my window would have me quivering in fear. You told me a hundred times that you are always by my side that day. I almost believed you were. I can still hear you singing “Hey There Delilah” to me. You said there were songs to describe all things in the world and this song described us. On my 16th birthday you said “It took my mother 16 years to make me gentle and it took you 16 seconds to make me mental.” You gave me a story book romance. And I guess a story book ending as well.

All that wiseassery of being one relationship old and armed with deep knowledge and great insight boiled down to nothing. I was back to square one. Back to wasting tears and filling page after page with sad poetry. But this time around, the tears dried up relatively quicker. When I finally dug my head out of a concoction of tears, heartache and unkept hair there was one good thing I learned.. I realised that there is no immunity shot or vaccination to a broken heart. Each time you have your little pacemaker stepped on, irrespective of how many times it has been stepped on already, it will hurt equally as much. Sometimes, only more. No heartbreak or bad relationship renders you less vulnerable to another heartbreak or bad relationship. The only wise thing to carry with you is acceptance. You have to accept that people will hurt you. You have to accept that you will hurt people as well. You have to accept that nothing truly lasts forever. You have to accept that all good things in life come with a price. You have to accept that not falling in love is not a solution to not having heart broken again. You have to accept that what once was love can turn to sour hatred, like the yellow plastered walls of an old house- cracking and ugly. You have to accept that its alright to hate some people without a speck of guilt. You have to accept that life goes on. Above all, you have to accept and not regret.

I may forgive you but I can never forget what you did. At least I wont have to invent the wheel every day. I can simply learn from past mistakes and gather all the broken pieces and start afresh.

Do I hate you? Yes. Do I regret falling for you? No. Given a chance to live again, there is not one thing I would change.

Today, you’re at a very good place in life and I am happy for you. I’ll hope you prove right the quote “Every sinner has a future and every saint, a past”
I’ll hope you remember me.

Much( not so much) love,
Sherry.

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6 thoughts on “A Letter To My Ex- II

  1. Doesn’t it feel great to get that out?! He was an undeserving punk, and Sherry is better off without him. 🙂 Perhaps I say this because I’m a momma who hopes that her daughters’ hearts never ever get broken, or because I was once that girl whose heart got broken in the throes of my first love. Of course, now, I’m better for it.

    Great stuff!

    • It does feel better getting that out.
      And yes, good riddance, sucker. 😀

      I hope your daughters’ never get their heart broken. Wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. You’re such a protective and concerned mother. Keep up the great parenting ❤

      Thanks for reading this.
      Carpe Diem.

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