ACE,
I know you so well and I know that walking away from me was hard for you. It makes sense to me that breaking the silence would be even harder for you. You know how much I miss you even months later, how much I wish I could at least get back that ridiculously amazing friendship with you. I really don’t believe you would be OK with hating me, especially when you compare me to all the other ex-boyfriends and douches that you’ve told me about.
I don’t want to believe that I was as bad to you as the guys who cheated on you, verbally insulted you, etc. I can’t let myself believe I’m as scummy and no-good as they were… it makes it that much harder to pick up the pieces. That’s why I continue to hold onto some form of hope for us, that I will get to see you again. Even as friends.
The band “Fun” was our band. They used to represent everything that we were together in songs like “Light A Roman Candle With Me” or “I Want To Be The One”. They have a new song out called “What The Fuck” which is now representative of what we aren’t. One line goes “I wish we could have shined forever”. I really do. I think about it every day.
I got your package today. Contained within was my old graphing calculator, the one I let you borrow back when things were still great between us. I was so disappointed not to find a note or letter from you in the package. It led to me scouring every millimeter of the contents of the package, with the hope that there might be something hidden inside the calculator’s note history, or tucked inside the battery compartment behind the covering.
I didn’t find anything of the sort in the package, but I did find something. Your phone number was listed on the return address section of the UPS packing label on the package. The last time I tried reaching you at that number was on Christmas Eve. I sent a text your way and got a response from your mom saying you got a new phone number, and that I could no longer reach you through that number.
Is this the sign I told you I was desperately looking for in the email I sent you a few weeks ago?
It’s really hard to tell. Part of me wants to think that the inclusion of your phone number on the package wasn’t an accident. I would think you have enough experience around the UPS Store to know what they put on labels and what they don’t. The other part of me thinks that if you really wanted to talk to me, it would come in the form of a letter or email, or even a phone call straight from you. After all, you may have forgotten to update your information at the store when you mailed the package.
One thing I lost when we broke up in December was my ability to be certain of myself. To be certain of the choices I make and the words I say. That’s why this new development is so confusing to me. Is the package you sent me your way of saying you want to talk, or is it the complete opposite? Are you trying to tell me I can still reach you, or is that line of thinking just a bunch of false hope?
I fear that if I risk giving your number a call, it’ll be unwelcomed and will only serve to solidify our ruination. I just wish I could know for sure. I can only hold onto hope for another sign that you’re not gone forever.