Love letter # 361

Someone asked me why you and I split up. You two seemed perfect, they said. The irony here is that it was a failure to be perfect that caused us to separate.

In the beginning, we were one another’s heroes. In the end we were just ordinary. Not awful or abusive – just flawed and far less shiny. Perhaps it’s even fair to say that a touch of boredom set in. And there’s nothing sexy or wonderful about that.

I used to castigate myself for my various failings. Now I only regret not forgiving you yours. I loved it when you were fabulous, but I felt let down when you weren’t. I wonder sometimes if it was a fairy tale I married; rather than a woman. I know that I played the prince for you – kept the act up for as long as I could. Did you play the dream girl for me, my love?

And for a time, of course, it was magical. Sometimes, I am incredibly nostalgic for that. Other times, I feel that it set the bar too high – never gave us a chance at being human.

I can say all this now because the strength that we did have together I have never even come close to finding again. Partly, this could be the effect of aging. I can accept that. Almost smile at it. But what if that’s not the reason? What if we split up because we were too greedy? Too stupid to see that the broken down model we had was better than anything else on the market.

Most days I try not to give this thought oxygen, but tonight – as I contemplate the quiet cold of the empty bed, and the knowledge that I will wake up alone – I am choking on it.