Day Three hundred and sixty two - Here's where the story ends

There are regrets. Of course there are regrets. But regret, oh that motherfucker, regret is also a time travel machine. It's June 2011, and I still love Silvia with all my heart, with all that I am, and months after we'd said our last, fateful goodbye in Geneva, I'm sending her a text telling her how much I still loved her, though by my side lay Filipa, she of the most amazing breasts I've ever seen, she who gave up on all she dreamed of and was but a hair's breadth away from achieving until I came along. I'm saying to Sil that I love her, so so much, and her curt reply, some hours later, is 'No regrets. Ever.', and that was the moment I realized she would never love me again. It would take me a bit longer for me to realize that I too didn't love her anymore. And when I realized it, then a part of me also felt like that I would never love again. Not like I loved Silvia - and to be fair, I didn't want to love anyone like I loved Silvia. There was so much pain there. So, so much. And I didn't want to live through that again. I wanted the fairy tale. The 'happily ever after' - and between Silvia and my one true shot at that, there was an ocean of bodies, most of whom I can barely recall their names.

And then, jesus - Sofia. Sofia was an unexpected presence in my life, I never imagined that someone such as her could come crashing in through my life, fuck me, what an intelligent, assertive, determined, explosive, firecracker she was - and still is, I'd wager. Shit, not 'wager', I know she is. What a bombast of a woman, she is. And as I type this, in the very same room where I wreaked havoc upon her body, where I did things to her she'll never allow another living soul to do to her, this room where we fucked the living daylights out of each other, this room where I told her I didn't know how to make love, all I can think about is... regret. 

But not regret for her, no, but rather regret for what I wrote about her in this here blog. I knew... I feared... that when I got to to the portion of my life where Sofia graced me with her presence, that it would hurt, to think about all those things I'd forbidden myself from thinking - seriously thinking - for over a decade. And naturally, I found myself revisiting those days, those legendary days, and the pain I felt was awakened anew in me. And... what I wrote about her was unfair. I ought to have written about her in a far more positive way. You see, in all these years between then and now I never blamed her for not wanting me. I always knew the whys and wherefores of it, and I understood - I wouldn't have wanted me either. But if there was sacrifice - from me - it was always born from a place of love. And I am to blame if I didn't take into account what she desired to attain for herself without any help or input for me - and though I may say that what I did and what I gave her came from that love for her, I wish I could've understood just how much it meant for her to be able to do those things on her own. It also shows how different we are - and how sadly broken I am. In my life - especially so in my adult life - I'm not used to being given things very often, whatever the intent. And so I give, because giving is all I know; indeed, I give though I expect nothing in return. How could I, when I myself deem myself unworthy of receiving the barest of minimums? I couldn't. As that splendid bugger W. H. Auden once wrote :

[S]he was my North, my South, my East and West, 

My working week and my Sunday rest, 

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; 

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. 

If I'm honest, then I'd have to say that the main reason why things haven't really worked out between me and the others, is because they really can't compare to you. They - or anyone else, for that matter - will never be you. They can never make me feel like you used to make me feel. And, you know, I neither ask it or demand it of them. It's just a hard and cruel and inescapable truth. No one will ever be able to replace you, though I drowned myself in an ocean of bodies and noise, though I have heard giant proclamations of love that I would never be able to respond to, though there is - between you and me - a chasm that's so far apart and so darkly deep that will never be bridged ever again.

But that's ok. I am fine... content. There is a sort of happiness in this. I know that I love you with all my heart, and I always, always will. Even if I wanted, I could not kill the last, good part of me - the part that loves you still.

Believe me, this is not about being bound to the past. It's far bigger - and better - than that : I am bound to this one love I feel for you, and it makes me so happy, to feel it, to just feel it. I know that we will never be together again. I doubt that we'll even see each other again. But damn, if only you could imagine how much I miss you, and how much I miss your voice... these are the things that make my heart ache every now and again. 

Still... it's time to look forward, to move on in another direction. If I've told you this once, I've said it a great number of times : I am glad that you've found someone who really loves you. And it also gladdens me that you have found someone whom you really love as well. It's rather easy to find someone who loves us, not so easy to find someone who deserves our love...

I hope that your life shall ever be full of good things for as long as you live.

If it leaves you more at ease, know that I no longer entertain the notion of a possibility that we may ever be together again, so don't worry, I shan't be bothering you ever again. Truth be told, I know - I have known full well - that I no longer mean anything to you on this emotional level.

I will never regret telling you that I love you. I will never regret you or wish that I'd never met you, because once upon a time you were all I ever needed.

I'm not ashamed that I love you - I am a better person for it. I do wish that you were still mine, and that you still wanted my love. This love... it can never be taken away from me, it's mine, and it's something that I treasure above all things. It won't ever disappear... does not happen.

I leave you now, and I promise, I leave you to be happy and devoid of my presence forever. It's for the best, mine and yours, especially yours.

But even if I have written all this, and poured out my heart, you know that I couldn't just pass up this opportunity to tell you once more that I love you. Always and all ways. Forever and for ever. World without end.