Duncan, April 14th
One day you'll love me, the way I loved you. One day you'll think of me the way I thought of you. One day you'll cry for me, the way I cried for you. One day you'll want me, but I won't want you.
Maybe one day I'll wake up from this horrific nightmare. Maybe one day I'll escape this dreaded show. Maybe one day I'll forget you. And maybe one day I'll forget her. And maybe one day, just maybe, I'll forget all about us and what we used to be. Maybe that doesn't make you feel bad, the words 'used to be'. And maybe it makes me feel like I'm in an inescapable nightmare.
Maybe I did love you. But you love her. You loved me. Past tense, not present. She's your present, I'm your past. I'll miss you, for a while. But I'll forget you. I'll meet someone else, and slowly believe that they are my life, my love. They never will be like you were, but I'll convince myself.
I'm not waking up, I realised a few days back. This all too real. How I wish it was a dream, Duncan, but it isn't. Maybe this is how it was supposed to end, my world shattered so you could build one with her. I could have done better, I realise. I could have done a lot better than you.
But I didn't, and I never will, Duncan. I love you.
And you loved me.
Duncan, December 12th
It's gone now. Everything. I write you this because I found the old letter I wrote you months ago.
I barely remember your face. I'm happy I don't. I hope you're happy with her.
You never replied to my letter, although I know you tried to. I know you had nothing left to say to me, I bet you laughed at my pathetic attempts of me trying to tell you that I love you.
I don't love you. I realised that. I never did love you.
You are attracted to her, and I never even remotely liked you. I've vague memories of us, but otherwise I just try my best to forget you.
I loved you. You loved me.
That was our past.