“You love him.”
“Yes,” I said.
“You are in love with him.”
“Yes,” I said.
“So, why didn’t you fight for him?”
“I had to let him go, because I love him. Do I want to fight? Yeah… of course I do. I want to buy the plane ticket, fly to him, take the taxi, knock on his front door, and shake him until he sees me. I want to beg him. I want to scream at him. I want to cry and hold and kiss him. I want him to see me, hold me, remind him of the inexplicable connection we share. I want to tell him that nothing else will ever matter in the world – nothing will seem impossible, nothing will hurt as badly, nothing will be able to destroy us because we, we two beautifully flawed human beings have one another. I want to fight for him. I want to tell him that it is worth a shot. I want to tell him that I want him and no one else. I want to tell him I love him.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“Because I’m also worth fighting for. And he didn’t. He didn’t fight. He didn’t struggle. He just hung up the phone. He accepted a world without Us just as easily as he ordered take out. And yes, there will always be this childlike part of me that will hope for that one day, that one beautiful day that I will open my front door and he’ll be standing there with orange Gerber Daisies and the smile that makes my stomach molten. That day when I will turn a corner on a normal day and see him there, appearing as if by magic. That day that he will touch me again and everything will be perfect. That day…
But it’s just a fantasy. The reality is: he let me go. And I want someone who will hold on to me, regardless of distance. Someone who will fight for me, because no one ever has before. I want someone to fight for me. I never realized that might be too much for me to ask, because maybe love just isn’t enough.”