Wouldn’t it be such a cliche if I said that time slowed down for us when we first met. As if the sounds in the room suddenly muted down and a spot light was shoved a top of your head.
Truth be told, that was how everything was for me the first time I met you. As physically impossible that may have sounded and as unreal it may be, I am truly glad to have met you that day.
But first impressions did not hold true. You were no knight in shinning armor nor were you a gallant gentleman. No you were far from that, from your curt replies when you feel wronged and your icy stare that you give when something displeases you.
You are far from the story book ending I’ve dreamt about but somehow you became perfect for me.
…
I used to believe that a person’s handwritting is reflective of one’s personality. But boy did you prove me wrong. Your scrawny scribbles that make it impossible for me to read is a far reflection of who you are.
Your writings were short and brief. Often impartial and seemingly cold. Yet translated off paper, these jottings fell short of who you truly are.
Out of the many people I have come across, you may have the warmest hearts out there. Your passion for your work, profession and vocation exceeds all expectations. I am most fortunate to catch a glimpse of that first hand.
The way you speak to your patients with understanding and compassion makes me at times question if I too have the qualities a physician should.
You look good in it — the white coat I mean. How does it fit you like a glove but while on me it looks like an uncomfortable white frock.
It is true when they say don’t judge a book by it’s cover. You’d be surprised what lies in between the pages, no matter how undiscernable the handwriting may be.
…
We are often our greatest critique. We at most times have high regard for other people yet we always fall short from our own expectations. I too was like that, back in the time where I imprisoned myself in my own expectations.
Somehow you managed to break the walls down, brick by brick.
Don’t be too hard on yourself.
No one is perfect.
Please forgive youself.
Just a few words that resonated so well both in my mind and heart. Thank you for believing in me when I myself have lost faith in myself.
…
A picture is capable of holding a thousand words. Does that mean a photographer is a writer too?An unnecessary question for a misplaced introduction.
But what I truly love about pictures is that it takes you back to a place and time that holds the fondest of memories.
Do you remember that time during our graduation, when you seemingly scanned the room to ask for someone to take your picture? Your eyes landed onto mine and it was a priviledge to have captured such a beautiful moment.
There you stood tall, decked glamorously from head to toe, surrounded by your family and — your girlfriend.
1–2–3-Smile.
A phrase I knew all too well. You all looked great and as a writer, I hope I managed to capture that perfect moment for you to look back on from years to come.
…
When one becomes two and two becomes more, this break a bone in our body. Some call this greed yet I am quite sure none of the bones in our bone has that namesake.
As time passed by, when one became two and two translated in four, greed loomed at the back of my mind.
When brief conversations translated into long pillow talks that break past midnight, a big part of me hoped to be part of that beautiful picture.
However as my heart began to swell with all sort of emotions, you began to keep me at bay and apologised twice over.
Yes, somehow things werent adding up anymore. Before I knew it, my four fell short to a zero.
…
I should have handled rejection more gracefully.
I should have been more mindful of my boundaries.
I should —
After tossing an turning for many nights now, my weary heart knew that it is time to stop. Clarity and reason came knocking at my door. When I welcomed the pair with open arms, this was also the time when the tears stop falling.
To my first love, thank you for making me feel all sorts of emotions. I regret not for having met you that day. The woman that stands tall right now wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for you.
Despite loosing all confidence in making you happy, I still dare to wish you all the happiness in the world. You deserve all that and so much more.
I know that is what you’ve always wanted and I have learned to support you with all my heart.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
 White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism |
 Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box |
 The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
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Photo credit: Fadi Xd on Unsplash
