One Day I’ll Come Back For You, I Promise

Photo by Elizabeth Tsung

Dear Simone,

I like staring into your eyes. I don’t remember the colour. I think they’re brown. I like staring into them because in them I can see my reflection. I don’t mean it in a vain way; I’m not that swept up in my own appearance. Every time I stare into your eyes and see my face in them, I’m happy. And that’s why I stare into them. Because you make me happy.

I don’t believe in fate. Even if I did, I wouldn’t think it was romantic. The idea that it ‘was meant to be’ doesn’t sound like love to me, it sounds like following orders. I believe in randomness. The idea that nothing happens for a reason, that our lives are left to chance, that nothing conspires to control us. I believe that our existence is so incredibly unlikely to begin with, let alone those existences intertwining. I think that’s romantic.

I don’t believe in the motto ‘no regrets’. I think regret is a natural human emotion that helps us learn from our mistakes and scrutinise our actions. To live without regret is to be bereft of an imagination of a better life, or unwilling to admit fault. I regret leaving you.

What some would call ‘fate’ I would call circumstance. I decided before I met you to move overseas. We had a week together before I left. Not long enough to fall in love, or contemplate long distance, or even be in a relationship to begin with. But it was more than long enough for me to ponder how important you could be in my life. I worry that in my life you’ll play a walk on part, when you should be playing the starring role. It sounds crazy that I would think so much of you having known you for so short a time, but that’s the beauty of regret; I’m critical of my actions because I can imagine something better.

In a week, you managed to rip from me all the cards I held to my chest. All my secrets that I hadn’t told anyone in my life, you now know. For the amount of time I’ve known you, you may as well be a stranger in the scheme of things. Are you special? Or are you just cunning? Do I really feel strongly for you, or is it just early infatuation? But then don’t all relationships begin that way? I’m being over-dramatic, I’m being ridiculous; millions of relationships are made and broken on the same foundations as we built ours, but why does that realisation still make me cherish us more? I try my best to resist cliches, but they’re inescapable. That’s why they’re cliche, I guess.

I’m not afraid I’ll forget what you look like, or what you sound like, or that I’ll forget about you completely – because living in a technological world means I can’t escape you. Though I’m afraid I’ll forget how you make me feel. I’m afraid I’ll wake up one morning, thinking I’m a moron for being so needlessly emotional over a girl I slept with for a week – a feeling shared by many reading this I’m sure. A close friend warned me a week before we first got together that I’d meet someone like you – someone kooky, someone special. Someone that made me want to show emotion when in the past I’ve refrained. I’m glad she was right.

In the last few years I’ve travelled a little. I’ve moved around, never staying in one spot, never establishing relationships with people for more than a year. I’ve never enjoyed leaving people; in fact I hate it. But I’m doing it again. Before I do, I want to tell you something.

I don’t love you. Even if I did, I wouldn’t dare say it now. But I want to love you, and I think I can. So I’m going to come back for you. One day I’ll come back. Then I’ll love you.