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I Remember You


This was my final farewell to someone I once knew and loved dearly... He's never out of my thoughts.  I wrote it a while back but couldn't share it before now.









...we met on the coast.  It was such a lovely day for a drive in a convertible.  Your bike gleamed in the sunshine… I couldn’t help looking right past B at you.  It truly was love at first sight.

I’m not sure how this is going to turn out, but I do know that it’s something I’ve been trying to do for the past 2 years now and have constantly found myself unable to say everything I wanted to say.  But in the past 9 months I’ve done a lot of traveling, and when sitting for long periods of time alone in the darkness and silence, somehow things become clearer within the mind.  I think I’m finally ready to do this.

It’s been a while, I know… but I can’t seem to let go quite yet.  I haven’t been ready to.  I’ve moved on as much as I can, but there is a part of me that still exists within that reality left behind so long ago.

I moved back to Los Angeles in 2009 and couldn’t bear to part with certain items in my possession.  Instead, I had a friend of mine mail them to you.  They day they were mailed I thought I had let go, but in all honesty that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.  I wanted to go straight to the post office and get them back, but I couldn’t.  It was too late.  It was what I thought you had wanted.  I have never stopped second-guessing that thought, wondering what you had meant by packing them into my things.  We didn’t communicate.  That was my fault, probably.  I was broken.  I hoped to not be so broken, but have only done more damage to myself because of it all.

I moved to Scotland in January.  I thought that by leaving my home, I could finally put the past behind me.  Alas, I was wrong.  It not only followed me, but haunted me.  I was surrounded by your last name.  People I saw walking down the street would remind me of you.  Finally, in June, I came back home. 

I saw you once, riding a Vespa in Redondo Beach.  It looked great, and so did you.  I know you always wanted one.  You looked good on it.  I wanted to wave at you, but instead I hid.  I didn’t want you to see me.  I didn’t want you to look at me and see how damaged I had become.  NONE of it was your fault… I did it to myself.  Still, I know that of all the people in this great wide world, you would be one of very few that could look at me and know my pain.  I didn’t want you to see that.

I know you’ve moved on.  I know you have someone in your life.  I hope she’s very good to you – better than I was – and that she’s all you’ve ever wanted.  The last thing I want to do is cause you any complications or undue stress.  I know all the books you’ve ever read say to sever all communications with people like me, people from your past, but I hope you read this for very selfish reasons I will explain.

I’ve never gotten over you.  I don’t honestly believe I ever will – at least a big part of me.  But I’m also not able to move on and that’s hurting me more than I ever thought it would.  At this point I live with my best friend (a girl named Sage) who has become a sister to me, far closer than I ever imagined even Kay and I would be.  She has been a single girl for many years, and as things stand I see myself growing old with her, becoming a bit of an old maid.  I’ve given up on love and hope.  I don’t want it anymore.  What I had with you was so perfect in so many ways.  We had such a wonderful 3 years together. I would never want to loose that memory or cheapen it with any relationships that would never live up to the standard that we had.  In that, I’ve lost faith in the chance of ever finding something like that again. 

I doubt you’ll want to talk to me.  I wouldn’t blame you for that.  I wouldn’t want to if I were you either.  I caused you a lot of pain and I really hurt you, all through miscommunication.  A big part of me wishes I wrote this letter to you two years ago like I had planned.  I’m sure it would have come out differently.  I didn’t want to give you back the rings.  I wanted to keep them until we could talk and iron out a few things… I wanted to get back to the way things were before we ate Sushi on PCH that day.  I wanted to go back to the day we ate Meatloaf with your family and you asked if I was tired of that large rhinestone ring I was wearing.  But time doesn’t reverse.  Time keeps moving forward.  It may be time I started to do the same.  I just don’t know how.

Maybe I’m looking for closure.  I don’t know.  I do know there’s a lot that I’ve wanted to say to you and even now I can’t seem to find the words.  I’ve always wished nothing but the best for you, even as I made that long drive to Utah on April 1st of 2009.  It was the day my Grandfather died in 2004.  It was the day I got to my parents house when we split.  I kept hoping both times that it was an April Fools Joke, but the joke didn’t end. 

It wasn’t your fault we split up.  It wasn’t your fault I was so angry when my Dad and I came to pack up my things.  I was so broken hearted over it all I couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes for fear of breaking down in front of you.  God, I loved you.  I still do.  I always will. 

The strongest memory of that day in my own mind was picking up things in the Tiki room to pack away, with you sitting on the red couch.   I wanted to look at you, to take one last look before I left, but I didn’t dare.  I couldn’t let myself be weak.  I needed to be strong.  YOU were strong. I wanted to be strong for you.  I didn’t want you to see how much I was hurting because it wouldn’t have done you any good.  Perhaps that was wrong of me.  Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden that from you.  If I hadn’t, maybe we wouldn’t be where we are today… though I truly hope you are in a better place. 

I held my 1920’s engagement ring in my hand for several hours before I finally placed it in the wooden box with yours.  I knew things were out of my hands and there was nothing much I could do… so I sent you both to tell you the only way I knew how that I would leave it to you.  I had desperately hoped you would at the very least keep yours, and I hope you do still have it.  I doubt you have that crazy surprise cake topper anymore though, and I can’t really blame you if you took that out for target practice in the desert. 

I’ve learned a lot of lessons over the past two years, and you know how I am, I always learn my lessons the hard way.  I’ve learned how to communicate with the people I love much better.  I know how to take care of myself – rely on nobody but me.  I’ve learned how to be alone.  I’ve learned how to have my own friends and my own life, not just be a part of someone else’s.  I’ve taken good care of Oliver and he still takes good care of me when I need it most.  He even has a little friend now named Sprite, born on nearly the same day as him.  She’s 2 years younger than him and they love one another dearly. 

I ran into Paul at a Doug MacLeod concert.  If you remember Paul, he’s the strange looking fellow that always goes to the Tiki events.  He told me that you and he talked at one of them… he said that you mentioned me and asked if he was “Amanda’s” friend.  My heart skipped a beat and I wanted to know if you had asked anything else about me, but I was afraid to ask. 

Since then I’ve found you on Facebook and see that you’re with a lovely blond girl with a sweet face.  As I said earlier, I can only hope she treats you as well as you deserve to be treated and she loves you as much as I always have.  I’ve always wished nothing but the best for you.


I will always love you.  Don't ever forget that.  I think it's time I let go now... I think I finally can.




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