I am slowly learning how everything happens for a reason.
I sat that night, with you, inside your various stages of heartbreak and me in my various states of happiness. I couldn’t help but feel so sad for you, because there is something generically inside me to want to save you every time you fall. Instead of saving you all this time, I sat back, alone for years, wondering how it was possible for you to love me, and then love her. We were nothing alike. I watched you be perfect, looked for flaws so that I could be sure that you were not as perfect as your were pretending, somehow that made me feel better. I hated your perfection. I hate all perfection. Everyone looks so dammed perfect from the outside. It’s never perfect is it? But it APPEARs that way, so the rest of us run around wondering why we are not perfect like you. I was never perfect. She was. I hated her perfection. I didn't even know her.
I truly believe that you never “get over” someone. I never got over it. I just learned to live with the way things were not, and made good friends with that dull ache in my soul, where we used to exist. When I wished you well, I meant that I wish you would find slightly less happiness with her than you did with me. Because, somehow that was going to make me feel better. Like my love was worth something more than it was. i only wanted you to be well when I was well also, then I wouldn't feel so lonely.
I ran around town, pranced in front of the world, shouted from the rooftop trying to replace you. Trying to match your perfect with some perfect of my own. I never could.
I pulled over on the side of the road that night, so over come with emotion...because I had been waiting to say the truth for so long, and I finally had.
I never got over you. I’ve missed you everyday. I just learned to live with it. I don’t wish things were different at all but finally, in my own happiness and contentment I could say
I wish you the best. I could send you my love and not expect you to return it and mean it.
and I did.
3 hours later my match asked me to marry him. I cannot help but feel like the universe was waiting for me to tell you these things before it would let me say yes. I fucking love the universe for that. How it bends and works in all these magical ways that we never see. How it rewards honesty. How the universe will kick your ass and withhold happiness from you for so long, just so you do the right thing, and the right thing always involves being honest.
So stop asking yourself "when will I get over him?" you won't.