You Were My Constant
To this day, I do not fully understand what changed. How and why we reached this point. All I know is, we did.
By Tella Marie
You were my constant.
To this day, that is the most succinct explanation I can come up with.
Ours was not a love story that could inspire poetry. In fact, ours was not a love story at all.
Ours was merely a story of two souls who were waist-deep in their search for the seemingly elusive spectacle that is true love. Ours was a story of how two souls had given their hearts to people who were nothing more than just smitten with the idea of having people head over heels over them. It seemed only natural that two hopeless romantic, and broken souls would gravitate towards each other. And as the souls embarked on a painful journey of healing, there was this distinct click – like when a metal locks in its perfect place. The souls discovered that they were in sync with each other.
I remember long walks. I remember drinks on Tuesday nights and loud drunken moments after. I remember random trips to Mickey D’s. I remember extensive discussions on movies and music. I remember the ongoing game of coming up with songs that had names as titles.
I remember everything. Except for the turning point.
You know how most people would be able to look back and pinpoint that exact moment when things changed? Most people would be able to say, “And then this happened.”
I have wracked my brain countless of times yet each time, I came up empty. To this day, I do not fully understand what changed. How and why we reached this point. All I know is, we did.
It was as if our turning point was merely a shadow that remained undetected until it started to eclipse the light. And once it did, it felt like there was nothing else left to do but let the shadow completely swallow the light down to its last beam.
I remember broken promises, and drifting apart.
And then I remember silence.
I remember waking up, knowing that I could no longer call you. I remember not being able to listen to songs because they reminded me of you.
I remember hating the stars because I could no longer look at them with you.
I also remember that it hurt. Looking at you hurt.
It hurt looking at you and seeing you look at me with apology in your eyes, and a sad smile on your lips. It hurt looking at you and seeing you silently ask the questions I’ve been asking myself – where did we go wrong? How could two souls that were so in sync with each other get to a point when there was nothing else left to do but let go?
Because the moment for apologies and unspoken words have come and passed. And we both shied away from it.
When the moment passed, I remember asking myself whether there was still a chance for our souls to find each other again.
I remember how a glimmer of hope in me rekindled when you pulled me in your embrace for the first time in a long time. And when I was about to pull away and you held on, that’s when I knew. That’s when I knew that it was going to be the last time. That’s when I knew that you were saying goodbye.
I had this idea that when you meet a soul in sync with yours, you are to never let go.
Looking back, I think it was a bit shortsighted of me to have the idea that we have some sort of semblance of control of who stays in our lives. Because the truth is, despite you never wanting to let go, there is no guarantee that you won’t lose that something you have been holding on to. It does not matter how permanent or perpetual they seem to you.
See, you were my constant.
I never thought I would lose you. But I did.