Friday December 21st 2007, 4:29 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

To the wedding photos,

I cannot stop the tears from falling from my eyes. Trust me, if I could stop myself from crying, I would. Nobody likes a crybaby- especially a grown man crybaby who cannot get over the fact that his ex-lover no longer loves him. God damn those wedding photos for existing in the first place. Tonight was the night you and I said our final sad “goodbyes”, which made me curious how happy we were in the past. I remember being happy on the day of our marriage. I remember your smile, your kiss, your beautiful essence that dissected time and space. I remember wanting nothing less than to love you with all my heart. You made me a better person; you made me feel like a complete being. I look at the photos of you and I, stating our vows inside a mystical cave, and cannot believe how far we have come from the joyous occasion that was our wedding. What happened Mindy? Where did we go wrong? Were we too comfortable with our love? Did we lie to ourselves from the foundation of our lust for one another? What was it that metamorphosed our happy past into the cold bitter darkness we feel towards one another presently? And although I realize these questions are rhetorical and don’t have specific dialectical answers, I can’t help wondering about the decline of our relationship- just as much as I can’t help myself from crying when I think of our current state of affairs. Today you told me that we were at separate points in our lives. I believe this to be a true statement. However, can the self ever be in the exact physical, psychological, or metaphysical position as the Other? No, otherwise, the Other would be the self and reality would come crashing down. So I grant you this obvious statement, but my approval of your observation doesn’t account for us not trying to asymptotically bring ourselves closer to one another through nurturing love and companionship. The admittance of being separate individuals seems cliché at this point in our conscious lives. We should try to move on from such digressive and trite examples of differences to construct an architecturally sound commitment to the bond between two lovers. There were so many mistakes in our past. If only we could have done things differently. God, I hate hypothetical “what if” statements, which is to say, I hate myself. To conclude, my tears have dried; even though I have not come any closer to understanding how a love as brilliant as the love we shared could have died so disastrously. Our love is a child we raised; yet we let it slip away into the void of darkness because of our own egotistical and superficial actions.

-The crybaby

Comments Off on 81