I hurt you, and it kills me to have done it. You were right. I didn’t stop to doubt what I was being told. I think I was waiting for something to ruin us from the get-go because it had always felt too good to be true. I didn’t value my worth, and it cost me you.

But this letter isn’t about that. This letter is to say thank you. You may have been in my life for a brief amount of time, but you’ve touched it in a way that’ll last a lifetime. You taught me to love myself, to accept who I am, and to let go of the past that dragged me down.

While I still wake up in cold sweat some mornings, the heartache of our breakup has eased it remarkably. My soul weeps for you. My body aches to touch you. My ears yearn to hear your voice. My lips beg to be kissed.

I should wish for the panic attacks than relive the pain of losing you every morning, but I strangely find it bittersweet. Because they remind me that I did have you once and that you still pierce my soul. I don’t think a day will come when that pain will lessen, and I don’t want it to either. I’m merely learning to live with it.

I’m lonely without you. But at the same time I’ve learned to accept that loneliness isn’t all that bad. It’s taught me a lot about me. I’ve learned to connect with myself, and to fight the insecurities that held me back. I sketched myself over and over again, remembering every line, every indent, and every curve of every scar. And in doing so, I learned to appreciate them. Because if someone loved them once, I ought to as well.

I regret hurting you, but I don’t regret the journey I went on without you. The past no longer haunts me. I’m a different person, shaped by the fragments that people like you have left behind in me.

So thank you. For loving me once. For looking into my soul. For giving me lightness in dark times. For simply giving me a second look.

I love you unequivocally, unimaginably.

You have my heart, and you will forever possess it.

But I’ll always be left wondering if I still own any part of yours.

-        Claire

*****

I put the letter in an envelope and went back to Jamie, pounding on his door in the early hours of the morning. To say he was pissed to see me was an understatement.

Bare chested and looking like a rougher version of his older brother, he gritted out, “What the hell do you want, Claire?”

I pressed the letter against his chest. “Give that to him.”

“Ben’s not here!”

“Then mail it to him, I don’t care! Just get it to him. And stop looking at me like that!”

He made a face. “Like what?”

“Like you hate me,” I retorted. “Because you crossed him too, and I bet it was a mistake you wish you could redo all the time. So don’t pretend you’re any better than me because you’re not. Everyone’s the same in some way. We’re all fucked up people in this fucked up world, and the last thing we need do it is fuck each other over as well.”

Stunned, he didn’t say a word as I turned back around and stormed away.

I poured my heart out in that letter, and if he still rejected me after it, I would just have to accept he didn’t want me. I wouldn’t be bitter about it. Because maybe, somehow, I was his haunted past he wanted nothing to do with again. And maybe he was right to put me behind and move on.

When I made it home after dropping the letter off, I found Emily sitting on the porch steps with Miles. While I’d been nursing my wounds, Emily had spent a little more time with Miles. He was no longer weird around me, and I was pretty sure it was because he’d developed a new obsession with Emily.

But he was friend-zoned, and it was awkward being around them sometimes when he stared at her like a puppy dog seeking affection. Poor guy.

“Hey guys,” I said, taking a seat next to Emily.

“Did you deliver the letter?” she asked. I’d filled her in on everything that had happened, so she was just as emotionally invested as me.

I nodded. “Yep.”

She wrapped an arm around me and gave me a wet kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad. You’ve got it out of your system. No more ‘what ifs’. Time to see whether to move on or fight hard.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not talking about that asshole, are you?” Miles asked with a scowl. “I haven’t forgotten him. All creepy and weird.”

I raised a brow, looking wryly at Miles. “The irony right now of you saying these words…”

“What do you mean?”

I broke out in a laugh. “You’re the king of weird and creepy, Miles.”

“No, I’m not. Emily, tell her.”

Emily simply stared between the two of us, her answer loud and clear. But she stood up immediately and declared, “I’m going to order some pizza. Cough up some money, bitches, because I’m broke and you need to feed me.”

Miles stood up too, immediately digging his hand into his pocket. “I’ll pay for the whole thing, and it’s too early for delivery, so I’m more than happy to run out and pick it up.”

I rolled my eyes. Oh, my God, this guy. “I’ll pass. You eat pizza every damn day. No wonder you’re broke.”

“So do you,” she retorted.

“And that’s why I’ve gained ten pounds.”

“I can tell. Fat ass.” She laughed and took off before I could smack her. Miles followed, of course, right on her heels.

I stayed seated there for a short while longer, glancing up and down the neighbourhood, reflecting. Immediately, I saw a taxi come bounding up the street slowly, and my heart tightened as it got closer. I watched intently as it continued to slow down near the house. I didn’t want to think his name, didn’t want to think it could be him, but my body seemed to be thinking for me. I angled my body to the taxi and held my breath. It drew closer and closer and…

It passed on by, turning into the driveway of a house a few doors down.

My heart took a nosedive, but I didn’t let the sadness show on my face.

I simply stood up and went back inside.

*****

A week later – on a Saturday – Emily burst through the door and shook me awake. I pushed her hand away from me, cursing for her to leave me alone. Late nights had me crashing in the early hours of the morning, and I desperately needed some sleep.

“Babe,” she said excitedly, “some sexy ass man is at the door asking for you.”