It just hit me. Right this moment, two years ago, the Australian was telling me he loved me. After meeting me only just that morning and spending a magical day together.
“I didn’t know it could be like this,” he said as we lay naked discovering each other’s bodies. “How is it I feel this way? How can I love you after less than a day?”
Yes. I can still play back his words in my head. But I went all day not realizing it was my silent anniversary. The day I will forever remember as the day I fell. The day that I wouldn’t ever undo. The day the I lost my jadedness. The day that led to the shattering of my heart. The day.
I might have missed it if someone hadn’t reminded me that Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. Funny thing is, a reader friend asked me today if I was ok. He remembered. But I didn’t. I just emailed back that I was great but swamped at work. And didn’t give it a second thought.
But now I am thinking about it. And there’s still a sting. A bearable one to be sure. But a wincingly sweet melancholy. Wherever you are, dear man who turned my world upside down, I still love you. And I believe what you said to me when we parted for the last time, “Though we can’t be together, never forget that there is someone in Australia who loves you deeply. For always.”