Remember how much in love we were?

Achingly, agonizingly, unconditionally. But sometimes love is just not enough, sometimes people are just not meant to be. Like us. We are the white lies people tell to prove that love can be true and pure. I guess we failed them. I know I did.

At the beginning of everything, I told you I’m not good for you. I warned you to stay away. You knew I was just going to break your heart eventually but you loved me anyway. You loved every broken piece of me, every flaw and imperfection. For you, I didn’t have to get up earlier to put on makeup. You thought I look the best in our pink couple sweater (even better if I wear yours). With you, I didn’t have to pretend to be dumb just to feed your ego. You liked smart girls and didn’t want to change me.

You were so different from the boys I had experience with. They liked me pretty, dressed up y for them but they hated if I corrected them, told them off for their bull or had thoughts at all. According to them, women shouldn’t think, they are merely pretty assets on their arms. Rich heir boys are just like that, I know for a fact. I have grown up surrounded by their kind all my life, knowing that one day I will marry one of them. You knew well that I have no choice. Still, you asked Why? and I replied Because family comes before all. But of course, there’s more to it: I never knew a different life, one without all the glitter and I can’t even imagine myself living like that. My Gangnam life is too convenient to let go no matter how coward it is. Or how particularly selfish of me to only think about myself. I know all of it, but I never said I was an angel, celestial and oh so good.

Remember when we first met? In that club downtown? Your band performed while I had another of those famous blind dates my parents set up for me. I can recall that day perfectly, how I loved those sad ballads you played and your melancholic voice. You sang like you knew what it feels like to have your heart broken. But your innocent, star-filled eyes betrayed you: I knew you had no idea.

It was the first thing I noticed about you and when my Armani and Rolex covered date turned out to be utterly boring, I find myself searching for a face to match with the lovely voice. You were standing behind the keyboard, all lanky and cute. Totally different from how I usually pictured musicians: flirty, arrogant and such things. You looked like a nice guy, somebody I had no intention to ruin and mess up his life. I knew I would do no good for you. But then you took the first step.

Maybe you noticed my not-so-subtle glances or you just happened to be that nice but at the end of the day, when the taxi company stood me up, you asked me if I needed a ride. You were all flustered after I firmly answered with a No. I kind of felt bad because you didn’t seem like the type to approach a lot of girls, you rather looked extremely shy as you scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment. It was close to pity but more out of curiosity when I said But I could use a coffee.

Who knew we would end up here? It started out so innocent, so dreamlike. It was so easy to fall in love with you. You are everything a good girl would dream about. So bad I’m far from good. Still, I fell for you slowly, day by day, not even realizing it until it was too late. I fell in love with the way your eyes mirror the constellations of the night sky, that shy curve of your lips when you fondly look at something, that cute frown on your forehead and how totally absorbed and invested you look while playing with the band. Every little thing about you, I loved them all.

Yet, happiness was never an option for me, just like heartbreak was inevitable for you.

Because you love with all your heart. You don’t do anything half-heartedly, be it work, music or love. You leave a piece of yourself here and there because you care so much. Therefore you were bound to be hurt. Even your friends warned you that I’m bad news and I don’t blame them at all. They must have heard my reputation and wanted to protect you from the disappointment. They seemed good friends, so I hope you made up with them after I left. I hope they make you smile again.

We both knew that day would come when my parents find out about us. They didn’t approve our relationship at all but I had already known they would never do that. You were a musician, having student loans to pay but only enough money from gigs to get by for another month. I also knew what choice they were going to force me to make and I had my answer beforehand. Yes, I did choose my family and you didn’t blame me for throwing away everything we had. Perhaps deep down you knew that one day I would. You understood me like nobody did before.

This time, when I told you it’s over, I saw the heartbreak in your eyes, the fall of Icarus, too reckless and naive for loving the Sun too much.

I guess what I want to say is sorry. For what? Well, everything. For letting you love me, holding onto you and lying that I never felt a thing for you. It was the hardest lie to tell but you had to hear it, you had to believe that all of it was just a game to me so you can move on. We were never meant to last anyway. Yet, it still hurts. I thought it would be easier with time. I didn’t expect that heavy weight on my chest. That emptiness you left there. Oh I miss you so much. I miss your smile, your hug, your kiss that made everything okay. Even if just for a little while. Missing you is like missing air. It’s suffocating.

One night, a few glass of wine in, I called you just to hear your voice but it made me miss you more. So I hung up and cried on the shining bathroom floor until the salty tears ran out. A part of me selfishly wished you’d call me back but your silence was the slap I needed.

I’m sure you heard I found a new boytoy already, one that my parents approve. I did, I admit, so I can pretend he’s you but he won’t ever be. Nobody can. So tell me: how many of them I need to forget you? How many times do I have to close my eyes and trick myself into believing it’s you holding me? I have a feeling I have to fool myself for a long time. But I’m getting there, slowly I will move on, too.

We were never supposed to work, we were too different for that. But you loved me anyway.

And little do you know. I loved you, too.