"If you met her tomorrow and knew you would lose her
If you saw her and saw all the hurt you would know
Would you hold her, while you had her?
Or let her go?
If you knew that your laughter would not last forever
But you knew while it did, you would breathe it like air
Would you let her make you love her?
Would you dare?
Feeling like you feel today, tell me you’d just walk away
What would you do if you could do it all over?
What would you do if you could start it all new?
If you could go back, knowing you know now
What would you do?”.
Crush your heart and say you’ll never give up
That you’ll carry on when every door will shut
That you’ll live you’ll live with no regret
We wear a smile to hide that we’ve been hurt before.
It’s been a year since that message.
I spent days thanking God for it… so innocent, so unexpected.
It was the beginning, our beginning. The start of something new that would have changed my life forever.
I imagined how we would have celebrated our anniversary.
A little vacation, a surprise, a special gift.
I think that it’s our duty to celebrate the best things in our lives. And our relationship - our small romance, our deep sisterhood - was the best thing in my life.
I just didn’t imagine that I would have spent this special day without you.
I remember how we ended everything. I made a choice, a choice that I regretted after a couple of days.
But when I tried to fix everything, it was too late.
It hurt like hell, you know?
I spent two months dreaming of you, waking up in the middle of the night and crying.
During those days, I even cursed the day we met. It was like I was dying. I was so in pain…
I can’t say I’m fully healed.
I still think about you and miss you sometimes. But it’s not like before.
I’m moving on. I’m trying.
I’ve never thought about giving up.
I’m stronger now.
I’m not cursing that day when I received your message anymore.
Meeting and knowing you was a blessing in my life.
And loving you, a privilege.
I’m happier now, because I had to deal with pain - real pain - and I survived.
Now I know how to enjoy life, and even the smallest things.
I’m writing this, and maybe you’ll read it, hopefully, and you will know what had happened to me in these months.
Or maybe, you have already turned the page and closed our chapter definitely. I can’t know that.
Let’s go on, my dear Bea.
We can’t grow together, we can’t share our lives, our success, our failures, our ups, our downs anymore.
We will, with other people.
I just want to share a quote from one of my favourite songs, the song that will always remind me of you. Please, go and listen to it. Pretend that I’m singing it to you.
I sang it so many times, wishing you were beside me.
"Who can say if I’m changed for the better? But, because I knew you, I have been changed for good"
(For good - Wicked)
Just… remember what I wrote in my last messages. Keep living. Keep fighting.
And always remember you’ve changed my life.
I hope you’ll find your happiness.
I love you and I always will.
#reading #again #afternoon #student #university #literature #sweden #awe #quoteoftheday #hjalmarsöderberg #söderberg
~ 22/9/13 - 22/9/14 ~
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?
In truth that she learned
Or in times that he cried?
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died?
It’s time now, to sing out
Though the story never ends.
Let’s celebrate, remember a year
In the life of friends.
Remember the love,
Oh you got to, you got to remember the love.
A LETTER TO MY 18 YEAR OLD SELF ABOUT FALLING IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME
I won’t tell you not to do it, because in the end it will teach you more about life and love and yourself than you ever thought possible. The business of regret is a dangerous one.
If I could, I would tell you this: you think you’re starting the adventure of your life; just don’t lose yourself along the way. Not everything is meant to last forever.
And that’s alright.
I would tell you: stand your ground. It’s OK to get angry, even if she says she loves you. There will be other people who say it and mean it more than she ever could. At the end of the day, don’t blame her. She is just as young and scared as you are. But don’t ever, ever blame yourself. The things that make her unhappy do not have to be your undoing.
I’d remind you to be kind to yourself. Being 18 is hard, no matter what happens. Please know that you are loved more deeply and widely than you know, and by people who will stay in your life much longer than she does.
Don’t forget that for a second.
I’d tell you that you are beautiful. But more importantly, you are vast and brilliant and infinite and brave and witty and flawed, and you pretend to like beer and you always cheat at “Clue”.
And you are good at drumming and solidly mediocre at driving and you can out-quote just about anybody on Harry Potter, and most importantly of all, I would tell you that not a damn single one of those things has anything to do with her.
You are not what she thinks of you. You are the books on your shelf and the song lyrics Sharpied on your arm.
You are 174 centimetres of blood and flesh and sinew and spirit, and you have existed for 18 years without knowing her name.
There was a you before and there will be a you after. And in the grand scheme of things, 10 months of your life isn’t that many.
Don’t get caught up in semantics.
Don’t wallow in self-pity.
Don’t let her make you small.
When you are up past 2AM and crying because she won’t answer your texts, just go to bed.
The next day when she smiles and shrugs it off, don’t just nod and take her hand.
Don’t let her make you feel guilty about spending a Friday night watching scary movies with your friends.
Don’t be afraid to be loud and messy and brash just because she might not approve.
And when the day comes, on June 4th, when a 50-minutes phone call effectively ends a ten-months period of your life, leaving you gasping for air on the floor of your tiny dorm room, don’t let it ruin you.
Let yourself be sad. Buy ice cream. Cry on the phone to your mom. Call her bad names until you run out of them. Revel in the past tense.
You have loved. You will love again.
Learn to be by yourself. Make new friends.
Apologize to the old ones.
Go to rock concerts and take road trips and laugh too loud and silence the part of your mind that wonders what she’s doing.
Know that a blissful sunny day will come when you’re driving in your car and THAT song will come on the radio and actually make you smile.
Trust in yourself.
Most importantly, never stop believing in love stories.
And one day, when it all comes around again, you will be ready.
You will be cautious and guarded.
You will not give yourself over as easily and completely as you did at 18.
You will stumble and cry and worry.
But it will be so much better the second time around.
NOTE: I found this beautiful letter on HelloGiggles.com and I decided to repost it modifying some parts, just to make it fit my feelings and what actually happened to me.
I see your face in every sunrise
The colors of the morning are inside your eyes
The world awakens in the light of the day
I look up to the sky and say: “You’re beautiful”.
Just close your eyes, and hold your breath
Because it feels right
We’ll keep it moving till we make it to the other side
And let’s enjoy the ride
We’re burning up
We might as well be lovers on the sun