Untitled JS

I never said I'm sorry.

Maybe that's what's missing to give us both closure. You needing to hear it, me needing to say it.

I see it in your eyes everytime we meet - at the gym, at school, even on the streets of Salcedo at night when we both happen to take a break and head for Starbucks. The longing for something to end this, whatever it is that's gripping us both.

We met at a time when I wasn't ready, and you were. While I am older in age, you were way beyond my years in maturity. I felt like I was 13, finding my ways for the first time. You were there to teach me, a lot, maybe everything.

You see, I was a teenager, and you were a grown man. Must have been hard for you to reconcile that you were, in fact, 7 years younger. Age never seemed to bother us at the start; it only became an issue later, and only because we've run out of hurtful things to say.

I see it now, the compromise. You wanted me, I wanted you, but both for different reasons. You wanted commitment, I wanted fun and experience. I've always known you'll yield to my will: you settling for the next best thing, as long as you have me. Somehow I sensed the dissatisfaction early on, but the ever stubborn me wanted to show you it was never about owning somebody. For me it was about trust.

Yes, we compromised a lot. And yes, I've had my indiscretions, and so have you. They didn't call it open relationship for nothing. Later on we settled to a routine where you'll accuse me of fooling around, and I'll proudly flaunt it in your face. It was all a lie of course, because later on I've valued monogamy and commitment more than anything else. You were blind to all that, because of one lie we both decided to take as truth: You were my first, and you didn't know it.

There's a lot I should be thankful for knowing you and being part of your life. You mentored me into your world and treated me as if I am royalty. Every experience I now remember to be much more meaningful because of you. I just hope you know it by now.

It was funny, how we ended things. Condoms. You hated the fact that I carry rubber in my pocket all the time. For you it was me being Brian-ish, your euphemism for promiscuity. For me it was about you not trusting me enough, and not trusting yourself more - in short, your insecurity.

We're glad it ended, aren't we? It's just that we've got lots to say to each other, and only now, when the feeling is gone, that we are comfortable talking about it. Good thing, too, because had we said these words during those times, we could have ended hurting each other more.

You may think I never loved you as much as you loved me. The point is, I did. It might not be as much, but it's all I am able to at that time. I sincerely hoped you knew that.

I'll never regret knowing you; never regret sharing my life with you for a brief moment. If I may walk this way again, I wouldn't change the part when I met you. We'll, maybe I'll improvise a bit, and maybe I'll drop the "open relationship" part. But who knows what would have happened if we didn't do it our way the first time?

Thank you again. Good luck. And see you around.