I used to think that love could make time stop, but he taught me time is irrelevant.
He could infuriate me like no one else, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more exasperated with someone. I could never bring myself to intentionally hurt him. Yet, the fear of missing out on something so painfully real outweighed all logic.
Colors seemed more vibrant. Life seemed clearer when I was with him—clarity amidst insanity. I barely managed to survive the pain of his absence, checking on him one last time before leaving him to memory.
I never imagined it was possible to care for someone despite only a few chances to be physically close. Now I understand that a single moment can captivate you, and without realizing it, you give away a piece of yourself that you can never reclaim.
God, he was an addiction—a devil’s bargain made in the back of a cab, in a hotel room, on a rooftop.
People often don’t experience those truly remarkable moments that seem reserved for fiction. I constantly questioned the reasons behind our meeting and the act of pretending to be something we weren’t. I wondered why I had such high expectations for someone I barely touched, but knew all too well. Even after we went our separate ways, I found myself pondering about him late at night. Despite being with someone else I felt like I was living out his fears of settling for mediocrity. I couldn’t understand why, when my life was peaceful, I craved chaos and longed to find him again, even though he had moved on. That feeling lingered longer than our time together, haunting the depths of my mind, hidden and unspoken.
He was a secret.
He was my secret.
He was many things.
He resorted to lies to achieve his desires, and in moments of uncertainty about his future, his insecurities threatened every happy thought around us. He lived in constant dread of becoming the monster he feared. Yet despite his flaws, he was a dreamer amidst his deceit, an actor performing on a stage, commanding demons to bend to his will. He effortlessly adopted these personas, embodying the characters from his script.
To me, he was captivating—a handsome man resembling a flawed beast.
No matter what face he showed, whether genuine or a facade, he was unchanging. Ethereal, even if he was unaware or undeserving.
My biggest disappointment, and one of the best choices I ever made.
It was fucking beautiful.
And now, it’s over.
Asia~Blue
Letter about an Old Lover
31st December 2023
New Years Eve
London, England
(This letter means a lot to me on a personal level. It took time and effort to process my emotions while writing it. I have chosen not to share the full contents in order to protect the privacy and peace of my current life, out of respect for myself and others. However, I can say that this letter is one of my favorites that I have ever written. I have reached a point where I am ready to share it with all of you, so you can now appreciate it too. Goodbye to the past. Enjoy reading it!)
Wishful Thinking 
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