Valentine Special - A letter to every guy I’ve ever been with

We were oh so young and what we had was pure, innocent and spotless, something that I still treasured even years after. You were my first kiss, my first boyfriend. It was all very new and exciting. For months I lived in this bubble of a relationship and started to dismiss my surroundings. I think I loved the idea of you a bit more than I loved you. I was enraptured in the feeling of being in love to care about anything else. Well, until I had to move away. You gave me a ring before I left as a sign of your commitment, our commitment. At time, I thought I would never take that ring off. How silly of me thinking that us kids could even attempt a long distance relationship. We tried our best though. I know you did. I know you were hurt, immensely. I know because I was too. I was too young to really know what love is, but I just know I was hurting for a really long time. Maybe because it was an unfinished romance, or maybe it was my first heartbreak.



You came and got away too quickly for me to make sense of. The first time I saw you from the bus window towering over everyone else in your checkered shirt, I knew somehow I got to have you. We had so much passion, too much. I remember skyping with you almost every night until we fell asleep, then seeing each other the next day, then repeat. I hardly had any privacy, my life somehow started to revolve around you. We fought though, we started fighting so often, and I know it was because of me, every single time. I was immature and dramatic, and I drove you away. I’m sorry. I know you really liked me, I did too. But I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be interesting, I just didn’t want you to get bored of me. I know now that I was doing it wrong. I noticed you were getting weary of all the drama circulating our relationship, but I noticed it a little too late. I’m sorry again. The last fight we had, the very last thread I pulled, is still imprinted here, very clearly. I didn’t know then that I could lose you so easily, so fast.



Maybe the problem with you and I is that I never felt like I was good enough for you. You were flawless, too gorgeous, too clean-cut looking. I thought you were a gem, and the fact that you fancied me, made me feel like I could do it. You didn’t like me that much though. Talking to you still fascinated me, even sometimes you did seem very half-hearted. I took you as a challenge. The thrill of chasing after something somewhat unattainable kept me going. You touched me with your fingers, you burned holes in my skin with your mouth. I should have noticed then that you were poisonous for me. It was an unhealthy period of my life and I’m not proud of it. You were a pinball, and I knew I wasn’t the right one to hold you down. You started calling me a little less, we started talking a little lesser. And it hurt when I looked at you, and it hurt when I didn’t. For a short while it felt like someone has cut me open with a jagged piece of glass. Eventually when hopes of you running back after me died down, I came to realisation that I don’t have time staying up worrying about what someone that doesn’t love me got to say about me.



We met at the end of your journey and you struck me as a different species. You were a fresh breeze that has blown into my life. You were different, very different from all the guys I’ve been with, from all they guys I’ve met. You were mature and smart and had a really broad outlook on life. You’re not the typical kind of guy that I’d go for, yet I am so glad I’ve met you because you have taught me so so much. You’ve changed the way I look at myself, and also the way I look at the world. I think it started from the very first moment you looked at me long and hard, as if I was some kind of mysterious creature that you were trying to make sense of. Then you uttered with all sincerity: “You know you’re beautiful, and I mean inside out. I just know that you’re gonna do something big”. Thank you for believing in me, thank you for helping me come to term with myself. We had long conversations about the future, the past, the presence, religions and ways of living. While you shared heartbreaking stories of your past, you helped me figured out my presence and future. You taught me to meditate, to breathe slowly, to live in the moment. You taught me to appreciate life, to fall in love with every aspect of it. You showed me how I should be treated, and that I shouldn’t settle for any less. You showed me that gentlemen still exist.



They said the best comes unexpected and I think they were right. I didn’t plan on meeting you at that soiree, or being engrossed in conversations with you for the whole night, or kissing you, or redefining all my principles by going back with you that night. We sure didn’t plan for ‘it’ - whatever we had, to bloom from there. The moment you walked into the room with a bottle of rum, I just thought you were one of those really good-looking douchebags (I know you’re gonna smile reading this) that are completely out of my league. How poor my perception was! I haven’t been so happy and worry-free in so long during the time that we were together that it felt almost surreal. I won’t lie, you were one of the best things that had happened in Vietnam and you made Hoi An 10 times more magical than it already is. We got attached so quickly but somehow I didn’t mind it because I was too busy cherishing every moment. We were both so fiery and enthusiastic and affectionate and that’s probably the reason why we got on so well, physically and emotionally. I couldn’t help but to run my fingers down your spine like you’re my favourite book. I couldn’t read you, you were your own language, but I was learning, quickly. Your pages were tough and frayed, but I want you, I want it all. Saying goodbye to you was one of the hardest things, but we both know that.