I am now receiving this message from you. You replied from the thread I started August of last year.
You’re asking me if I still use Telegram.
I reread and reread the words over and over again. I cannot believe it’s you.
I cannot believe it took you almost a year to see that message.
The message I believe I sent you out of sheer desperation because I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving me for good.
It took you almost a year to realize how much I toiled just to have your eyes dart my direction.
And despite the fact that I sound like I am vengeful towards you, believe me my dear–I am not.
It will not take me a year for me to realize that I have already set your spirit free. It didn’t take me a year to understand that it’s unfair to keep you hanging around as I find myself. It won’t take me a year to come up with my resolve that our time has passed and that all that’s left between us are these photos of your city and these verses of your language I painstakingly taught myself just so I could talk to you fluently.
Thank you my sweet Madrid, thank you for making me realize that we have turned in to strangers and that the love I once had for you is now reduced to my knowledge of a 3rdlanguage along with this collection of artful proses brimming with adjectives describing how much I loved you back then.
Love moves in timelines we don’t understand. It’s now crystal clear to me.
You probably saw the playlist I made for you 2 years ago. No worries, those songs are still for you.
And although we course through different seas of minutes, please know that I am glad I’m having this effect on you.
I am the ghost of your past– your “what if”. I am the story you’ll tell your wife someday and I’ll be the shadow of hands on your wife’s wedding bouquet.
I am the effect that you didn’t calculate coming.
For every ounce of love never goes to waste.
My love has finally reached where your heart is.
Sadly though, I’ll just have to be the one you’ll forever miss.
And by the way, this is me confirming the receipt of your message.