unsent letter
Dear Quentin
It’s raining outside, quite hard actually, and it’s pretty cold tonight. Trying really hard not to think about the time I told you that I had actually never ever kissed in the rain; and you took me outside into the slight drizzle and kissed me. The soft drops falling on my cheeks and resting on our lips, it was nothing like the movies; it was cold, wet and just plain right uncomfortable. But somehow it was perfect. That moment was perfect.
Tomorrow it’s exactly a month since we last spent time together. It was just a simple lunch at Bella on a Wednesday. I was rambling about school, family and just life in general, while you sat patiently listening, giving your opinion every now and then, and puffing on your cigarette. You were wearing one of your stupid hats and a red shirt, god you always looked so good in red! We both had pasta, and you taught me how to eat pasta the Italian way with a spoon. I was so excited; I finally didn’t mess all over my chin trying to slurp up all the spaghetti. And you were so supportive of my new development that you went on to say that I ate with a spoon and a fork even better than you did!
If I had known that things were about to end, I would never have said that I was joking when I said ‘I’m not going to stop at your house, I’m going to drive all the way to my house and kidnap you!’ I would just have done it! At least that way I would never have found myself at the club parking lot on the following Friday night, sitting in my car, cursing at myself for crying and cursing at you for standing me up.
You were drunk Friday night, went home to pass out you said, never even mentioned our plans; there wasn’t even the tiniest sign of remorse or even a sorry. Just a phone call explaining that on Friday night you were drunk, had no idea what happened, had a bump on your head, or was it a cut? I can’t remember. Something about being drunk at work, leaving early and getting fired. It was all very vague. Made no sense. And that was it. That phone call, full of confusion, was the last time we spoke.
I tried so hard to get in touch, but you ignored me. For days, you ignored every phone call and every text. I had no idea what was going on. I was so worried that something had happened to you. I felt alone, betrayed and unappreciated and worthless. Did I really mean nothing to you? Was I really so insignificant? Did I really have no say in our end? You just decided things were over. I had no say. I couldn’t explain how I felt. I couldn’t defend myself. I couldn’t do anything. You decided for me. You decided our fate. You decided on our end.
I guess what hurts me the most is the disappointment I feel. How I now feel like I was giving myself to someone who I actually don’t even know at all. I believed in you, every project you mentioned; I was there in the back rooting for you. Every time someone asked what I saw in you and how you were a complete right off; I was there clenching my fists, standing up for you, pointing out every good quality, shutting down everything they said. I wish every day that everyone as well as yourself could see you through my eyes and see how much you were worth. I wish you could have seen that you were good enough for me. I wish that I now felt that I was at least good enough and worth enough to receive an explanation, not just silence.
I just wish you for one second didn't see me as a little girl that should be protected from the world. That you didn't see yourself as such a bad influence. That you didn't seeyourself as a threat. Now though, I guess I should have believed you from the start when you said that you simply weren't good enough for me.
Now you’ve apparently said that you just forgot the world. But the world didn’t forget you. I didn’t forget you! I was still there. I am still here!
What kills me is that at the age of 21, I am not naïve; I have had my fair share of misfortune. But when you looked into my eyes and played with my hair, every word you said; I took it literally. I took everything to heart. I felt every touch for more than just the physical but for what it meant. Every smile is still engraved in my memory, the sound of your laughter still echoes. Your memory is still here. Even if you never meant anything, your memory still lives on in my heart; even if it is just a lie.
Now, out of everything I gave you and that you gladly took. The one thing I’ll miss the most, is my virginity.
I don’t regret making love to you. I sometimes just wish that you appreciated my most intimate gift. That you felt honoured that I chose you. That it meant something to you. Mostly that you cared enough about me to give me an explanation when you left.
But now today, a month later…
I wish I wasn’t here alone, in the rain, knowing that you were the man I chose to give myself to.
And I,
I was simply just another girl.