It was a sunny day. We stayed back past school time and you talked to me about my pursuance of History – a major I eventually dropped in University. You were and perhaps still are the perfect fit – musician, photographer, reader, writer and all rolled into one – you were me in some ways and we would have fitted in the artsy world perfectly. That ideal of mine broke on that particular day when we argued about my choice of History and how you remarked it is “useless” and has no “value-add” for my education. I was angry and appalled that of all people, those words came from you. If you didn’t know how much I valued history, you pretty much didn’t know me.
In that moment (and also the fact that you had to ask your ex to buy my favourite bread because you forgot), I knew instantaneously – you were not the one. You were not meant to be anyone worthwhile in my life.
Perhaps you meant well. Perhaps you meant differently than what my 18 year old self could comprehend. Did it matter? We ended anyways. 5 years later – I am here, in a room opposite the man I have come to love and might possibly still love in the decades to come (who knows what could happen next?). I am no longer idealistic. I am not even a romantic anymore. With this man, we don’t celebrate monthniversaries, like the same food, have the same interests or even come from the same place.
Maybe our differences will eventually be a problem. Maybe there will be lapses in time when this man and I will throw hate-words to each other but that-day is not yet here. You see, I was angry at you for a very long time. I was also afraid of relationships. In that tiny, myopic head of mine, I detested you for being my failure. I often wondered if I could have been treated better, given more attention and been loved finer – but we were kids and barely understood the mechanics of love. It took most of my university years to understand my faults and your merits. I stopped blaming you. More importantly, I stopped blaming myself.
Maybe one day, we will sit down and have a cuppa. Maybe we will continue to be strangers and friends on Facebook (how superficial). Regardless of which trajectory we might take – if we ever become famous or remain anonymous in this lifetime, I can now say thank you to what you had given me in high school. Thank you for showing me the workings of an undercooked, idealistic and romanticised teenager’s relationship and thank you for allowing me to be able to spot the gem that is now in front of me. I owed my past to you but the present and the future are my own melodic tunes.