A Love Letter to An Ex

I always loved you. I still do. It’s true that I have left you for another, but truth be told, I even still remember that fateful day. It is still vivid in my mind like it only happened yesterday. That happy day. The day we fell in love.

When I first professed my love to you, people mocked me. “We don’t understand,” they said, “how possibly did you become like this? You will regret this. He’s got nothing for you. He is not even capable of loving you back. To him, you are and forever will be a stranger. A subject to use and throw away when no longer needed. He will only hurt you.”

But I persisted. I knew you had reasons for everything. You were angry, you were sad. You were disappointed and you couldn’t think straight. But I knew you would love me back, if only I showed you how my love was not like others’. I did not love you for what you could give me. I did not love you for what worldly happiness I may get. I love you because I don’t know how not to.

And we swam in the ocean of our love. A love so young, so wild; it knew no pretenses. It was raw, it was selfish. It was burning as fire, it was giving as water. It commanded our every way. But it was also so pure and innocent that even gods looked at us in envy. Such a love is dangerous, they said. I was young; I should go and see the world. I just laughed at them. I didn’t want the world. I wanted only you.

Perhaps it was gods; or perhaps it was fate that played a cruel trick on us. We had to be apart. I was heartbroken. (Weren’t you too?) But even in tears, I tried to be faithful. I kept your image dearly. I ignored everything else that came by. For four long years, only the thought of you made me want to go on. It made me want to survive.

They say people never change. But time did make you change. It made ME change. Our little brief encounters were not the same anymore. The romance faded, the flame dimmed. I tried to remind myself of all the things I loved about you, about those days. Those happy days. But as much as I wanted to deceive myself with those fond memories, you slowly walked away. You are not the same as the one I had always loved. I couldn’t find comfort in you. I couldn’t see myself in you. We were two silent lovers, eager to go but too sad to leave. So with tears I said goodbye.

…..

Now after some long years, I come back to you. I come without expectations, a mindless journey of a confused traveler.

You put on your best suit. Then with words as sweet as honey you entices me. With old time intimacy you seduces me. It is as if you can look through my weak heart. Isn’t it cruel of you, knowing that I’m now with someone new?

I take my time, I try to resist. But dear God, how can I neglect such beauty? Hesitantly I look around. I see how you aged. And what a magnificent view it is. Past glory and hope are racing, impatiently forming those fine lines above your brows. History and love stories are entwining, boasting a certain intricate display. I stare at it, I trace it. I was there, I realize. And whether I like it or not, it had been made permanent.

Then I see your kids. Naked, they swim and dance in your flowing river. They jump, they sing, they wave and they shout my name. They have almost nothing to eat and wear, but they have more joy than all money in the world can buy. They are children of the sun. They are children of the wind. They are free.

In the bliss, I breathe deeply, inhaling your air. It smells fresh, but I sense something decaying. It is a familiar taste: a hint of false warmth, a dose of vanity, and a large mixture of bigotry. I stop to find the source of these unpleasantries. Then I look at your people. Oh, what a great masquerade they play. Washing their lips with holy words, pretending it is devotion. Gods are mentioned in every conversation. Phony worships are offered, as if bribery makes sanctity. In all those things they hide their fear of heaven.

I laugh bitterly. I comprehend. This is the grown-up you. This is what grew in you after we are separated. This is what then defined you. The you that I hated and made me call it quits. So why is what I feel now sadness, not disgust?

I contemplate. I walk on your streets, I sleep in your forests. I talk to your river, I ask your leafy trees. I fondle your flowers, I befriend your land. I finally find my answer.

I love you because you make life seems so simple. You make me feel that what I have done and what I have struggled for means nothing more than just a speck of dust in this universe. This is probably what I need. To understand my existence. To have a reason. To be humble. And only you can teach me that. With your burden, your sorrow, your hope and dreams…

But now it is all too late. I am with someone else, and this time I have made a promise. A promise I can’t take back. A promise I will fulfill. I must return, and again must say goodbye. I know you won’t cry. For you know that you will always be in my heart. And our love is eternal.

———
A souvenir from the journey to the Southeast