Darren Hayes, my personal love philosopher, wrote the lyric “I shouldn’t be holding on, but I am still holding on for you”. These words sum up the unrequited love situation that has been going on in my heart and head for just over two years. I know I shouldn’t still love him, but I do.
If I was my friend, I would tell myself to pull myself together. That he doesn’t deserve me in his life. That I should have cut my losses two years ago. Delete and unfriend. I know I should have. It’s only me prolonging this pain.
What we had was so intangible – pretty much two years of words on a screen, dancing over both our hearts. There were breathy phone-calls and mutual realisations of love – the kind of stuff that unleashed a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach. There was an intense weekend together, in person – it was like the story of a relationship condensed into three nights – the awkward beginnings, the bliss and exchanges of love, and then the unravelling heartbreak. There was a long period of me yearning and wondering. And there was six weeks of franticness (mostly on my end) comprising of him suffering physically and mentally and confiding in me, and me trying to convince him to stick around for a longer lifetime than he was planning. I liked that he needed me.
The butterflies fell from the sky when he told me he had met someone else. He didn’t need me anymore. He didn’t understand how he had hurt me. I was so easily replaced. He said he was the happiest he’d ever been. Those words made my eyes well and my heart sink.
And I grieved hard. So. Intangible. And so the feelings I have are confused, as though they have no real value, because our relationship has been words on a screen.
In this digital age, it is easy to be consumed by words. We are wrapped up in communication. For me, words have more power on the screen – I can feel the emotion in each syllable, and if there is love intended in the message, I can forgive the sender not knowing the difference between you’re and your. Maybe, because I am a writer, and communicating via the internet has been a large part of my life for 15 years, words can make me fall in love before I even get to breathe the person’s scent. Words have created the personas I’ve come to love. Am I an idiot?
I felt something for him in his first message to me, back in May 2010. He was dangerous, but I wanted more. And I got more. I should have put a full stop on his words, before they hurt me further. But I let the sentences run on too long, only punctuated when he wanted to stop what we had. Again and again. He was so bad that the good shone brightly around my perception of him, like stars peering through a night sky.
After my heart was broken last year, he said we’d still be friends. We couldn’t be friends. How could we? It’s not like I can pick up the phone and ring him now he’s with someone else. But I left him on Facebook to show him what a good life I am having. My bit of snark. Ideal in theory, because he has been able to see me living life. But in reality, I can see just how happy he is too – without me. I should have hit unfriend long ago.
And so when he announced a huge milestone in his life, I realised it’s no longer fair for either of us to be in contact. These words twisted my stomach. He’s miles away, but too close for comfort. With sadness, I said all that I’ve wanted to say to him, in a carefully crafted letter of course, and held my breath as I hit the unfriend button. A chapter closed. I’ve let go. I ended the letter with “I’ll leave you be, remembering you with fondness, sadness and love. I am glad I played a part in saving your life”. And I am. Now I can breathe.
There’s a blank page now, where new words are invited to bring me new happiness. And when they come, I’ll try not to read into them too much. It may just save my heart.
Have you ever had your heart broken? Ever fallen in love over someone’s words? Are you friends with your exes online?
Image by Kent Marcus Photography
