November 14, 2011

Another letter to the Vodka drinker

It seems we got to the point where we’re unable to look each other in the eyes. We’re both in love with other people now and I don’t know how you’re feeling (I don’t even want to guess), but it kind of bothers me not to able to talk to you the way I used to. I don’t know if I miss what we once had. I’m sure you’re better off with her, ‘cause she’s a miracle (one I wasn’t able to accept). And all of a sudden, one late night it came to my mind that despite the non existent relationship we’re having now, what we had back then was really beautiful. I don’t regret it happened, I’m not sad it ended, I’m just glad we… had that time together back then.
It’s weird though how much I used to burn when I was around you and now, every time we meet my body seems to get cold and I mentally push you away, not because I have to, but because I want to.
I don’t know if back then you hurt at least half as much as I did. You most probably didn’t, because of the two of us you were the one who had someone to turn to, someone to hold. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Our story remained buried somewhere far back in time.
I’m thinking that may be I’m writing this because somewhere deep in my subconscious I realize that you can’t look at me (different than you used to), you can’t talk to me (without risking going back …there) …and I’m pretty sure we feel the same. I’m pretty sure that none of us wants to go back to where we started (for as good as it was).
I remember you used the term “bad timing” and I struggled to understand (truth is I couldn’t). But things don’t last forever and our time was up before … before we got the chance to use it. Truth is I never found the “good time” for this kind of things; somehow I always come up late and miss all the fun, feed on the leftovers.
I’d rather play with a broken porcelain doll than with a cheap ‘made in China’ robot.