The love of my life.

He was the love of my life. Sometimes, I think he still is. He came out of nowhere and my heart didn't just skip a beat, it leaped out of my chest for him. With those deep, dark eyes, the matching jet-black hair, he towered over me like a mountain and embraced me as if nothing could penetrate that protection or love. Ironically, the thing that would come between us would inevitably be something greater than Everest; it would be him.

I loved him as soon as our eyes locked. I knew instantly that my life would never be the same. Little did I know that my heart wouldn't be either. The first day we met, we talked about my business, his photography, school, and life, as if we had known each other for years. More importantly, we just got each other, we saw right through the other with such transparency. It was a connection unlike any other I have ever felt with anyone before. It was that connection that made me know it was him, he was the one, the love I had been searching for my entire life and would never find again. Even though I had been with someone else at the time, someone I truly did love, that love was minuscule compared to what I felt for him.

We both felt what we had for each other, and both knew it was real, it was deep and true. The only problem we ran into was that I wanted to embrace it, while he, 8 years my junior, wanted to run from it. A love so true it scared him. A connection, a commitment, a feeling that made him question if it were actually real, and therefore he chose to walk away, on a path alone, protecting his heart from losing another all the while leaving me alone too, questioning what it was I was missing, lacking, what I did wrong to not make him see I was it, the one.

As we walked separate paths, my heart was shattered by the loss of my surface-level love, and as my heart broke, our paths crossed again, and I believed his heart would help repair mine. Sadly, he added to the torment, and I fell into a deeper void, feeling doubly rejected, feeling alone, feeling lost, feeling abandoned and hopeless. That was until I met another. This other who I thought was going to be the real one, the one not to walk away, not to break my heart, but to add so much joy, laughter, and contentment to my life, there could be no other way.

But there was. There was still that love that no other could compare. A love that drifted in and out of my life for years. A love that I was so committed to, I would leave the joy, laughter, and contentment to have more, to have everything. I was told to go. I was told he would be here. I was told I needed to do this for me and that he had to find his way, that it wasn't our time yet. And so... I went. I went to the other side of the country with my joyous laughter and contentment, until it was no longer joyous, until there was no longer laughter, and I felt so unfulfilled, so unhappy, so unloved that I again spiraled into a void, missing and longing for the one. For the embrace. For the partnership of the love of my life.

When I returned, full circle, it was then me that wasn't ready. It was me that was scared. It was me who needed independence, it was me who needed to figure myself out. Then one day, it happened. We were together. But... on his terms. Secretly. Slowly. Trying to figure things out but taking it slowly, one minor step at a time. I didn't care how slow we went. I had him. He was mine. We were finally together, but I felt as if something was still missing from him. He was there, but his heart wasn't. Shortly after coming together, he confessed he needed more time, he needed to figure things out and needed to "date around" to figure out what he wanted, all the while upset, I understood and believed if I truly loved him, I would let him go and he would come back to me, realizing I was the one, not being afraid anymore and embracing me with the same love I had for him.

About 2 months after we ended, he found someone else to embrace, someone else to hold, someone else to love. It ripped me in two. How could he do this to me, to us? We were meant to be together. But fine. Be with her. You will see, we were meant to be. I am upset, I am hurt, but I still love you. But no longer can I play this game of back and forth. The ship has sailed...

A year into their relationship, I found out he had exposed me in a way privately, yet to the world that made my blood run cold. I no longer was hurt or upset. I was enraged. The love instantly vanished and I hated him. I hated him with such disgust, such a vengeance, such rage I could kill. But I didn't. I just let the ship burn. I never looked back and let disgust and disdain pour over the relationship and love that once was. It was over. For good.

A year later he reached out. He needed my forgiveness so he could move on and I could not give it to him. Again, my blood ran cold, and hated him all over again. I had to block him everywhere. Unfortunately, deep inside, I could not block him from my heart.

Fast forward 6 months after he reached out, I dreamt of him. Last night. All night. He begged for forgiveness I still could not give him. He was single, he realized he was wrong and that I was it. I was the one and our story truly never could end. We could never end. It was us, always us (cue The Notebook scene). But I couldn't.

I woke up with a heavy heart, with tears in my eyes, trying to remind myself that it was only a dream, that he was still the lowly piece of garbage I knew him to be. As I fell back to sleep, the dream almost continued and his father appeared, a man whom I deeply respect and love very much. He asked how I could find it in my heart to forgive his son. That he too believed we were meant to be, I just had to forgive. But I couldn't.

Today in the shower, I replayed that scene over and over. How can I find it in my heart to forgive him? I can't. I just can't forgive him for what he did, for all the hurt, for all the back and forth, and for leaving me only to find himself in another's arms. I hate him, I hate him so much! I have never hated anyone but I do now, I hate him! I cannot forgive him for what he did, I cannot forgive him for what he did to my heart. I cannot forgive him for anything.

Because if I did... I would then have to admit that I don't hate him. I would have to admit I still do love him, the love of my life.

Photo Credit: The Notebook (2004)