Letter I made to help me let go.
If I had known that our chance reunion would be the only time I would have, I would have whole heartedly said,
"Thank you for your friendship. I know this is weird to say after not speaking for the last seven years- and yet, as I sit here with you now, it's like the ghost of my 17 year old self becomes alive for just this hour and sends me his feelings of comfort, elation, & and happiness of just being able to hang out with you."
To be able to feel such great heights of compassion & gratefulness from just seeing you & hearing from you- I interpret it to mean that my past self must have felt that all the time whenever you were around. What I mean to say is, you were so important to him- to me."
If I had known that this would be the last time I would be able to say sorry, I would have said,
"This might be me overthinking- AND it's completely unfair to you because instead of being vulnerable, -and asking you if you're comfortable and feel safe, I'm instead assuming I know how you feel- WHICH doesn't respect your autonomy- but I'm going to say it anyway because I'm scared of being misunderstood or making someone feel unsafe or creeped out or uncomfortable-
The way you left & at times, when you were talking about how unsafe you felt traveling on the subway, it made me think that you may have felt unsafe or put in an uncomfortable position.
And to keep yourself safe or not have to do something awkward or tough or unfair, you were nice to me and held out. I overthought this, and it could be me just projecting, but 9 out of 10 times- I've been good at sensing & empathizing how others feel (probably a skill I've garnered & honed since I was a kid, sorry for the trauma dump). Anyways, I just wanted you to know-
I'm sorry if I've made you feel unsafe or put you in a unfair position. Thank you for spending a brunch with me, & you can go your way & not feel the need to be nice because you feel like it's a risk not to be."
If I had known that this would be my last farewell, I would have said,
"Sitting with you having hot chocolate and you, your latte-
Chatting with you, sharing food, longanisa breakfast sandwiches-
Listening to you, hearing about your adventures & good things that you are doing-
This moment of connection made me feel at ease & grateful. I feel delighted we were able to meet again.
You know how I was saying that being able to see you again recalled, in me, intense feelings of compassion & gratefulness?
I also feel a sense of mournfulness tinged on the outside of those feelings of compassion & gratefulness-
Like how shades of the sky meet the sun on a water paint canvas.
I grieve & feel billows of sadness come up from the pit of my stomach and envelope my chest & into the back of my eyes when I think about how this is our last goodbye, & we are, together, letting go of this connection.
I imagine I'm standing on the pier at some faraway beach. There are crates on the pier next to a boat. When I look in each crate, I see the memories & important things I've grown attached to in our friendship.
-The humor, fun, & joy we've shared.
-The feelings of seeing & being seen, of knowing & being known, of understanding & being understood.
-The companionship, belonging, & support we had.
And with each crate I look into, I close it shut & place each on the boat. And then say,
"Goodbye, I'm letting all these things go. I'm letting you go."
I say it. I say it again.
With tears in my eyes, I keep saying this phrase until I see the boat slowly disappear into the horizon.
I turn around and breathe.
I breathe, and I see the sky clearing up. Spring is here. The air feels crisp & refreshing. I can hear the birds that are soaring through the wind. Leaves on the trees rustle through the breeze. There lays a path in front of me laden with sunflowers & daffodils.
Before I go, I can still hear a part of me saying to look back once more. Just one more time.
Before I can ponder it even more-
I step forward onto the path and start walking, head held high.