Dear Violet,

I hope you understand that I can never take you back, not that you'd care anyways. Because an unrequited love is worse than a failing marriage strewn from a—once madly in love—couple. I should've had at least an inkling of doubt, after meeting every one of your trivial smiles that never seemed to reach your emerald green eyes. But what matters is that I know now, and won't ever forget. I should've known by the way you smiled discreetly, and affectionately, at some of the football players during lunch when you didn't consider me watching. But what matters is that I know now, and won't ever forget. Doesn't it hurt knowing that the person you fell in love with barely spared you any time of the day? That the one person you put before anyone else, that that said person whom you thought the world of considered you nothing short of a short-termed lover? It hurts like a silver bullet to the head but worse, because you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they would feel no pain in departure. That there would be no second thoughts, because that person sadistically, yet unknowingly, crumbles you up like you're just a piece of insignificant, store-bought paper. Nothing more.

Yet, I can't bring myself to blame you as much as I would've favored. I blame myself for not realizing sooner that I deserved better, instead of foolishly shadowing you around like a love-sick puppy. I blame myself for not realizing sooner that love isn't bought at a price, but freely apportioned at ease among two people. If I had known earlier, there wouldn't be any heartbreak, pain, insecurities, or inevitable committal issues.

Yes, I truthfully wish I had known, because then those loitering scars wouldn't have been capable of dragging me down to discover what I can now pinpoint as my worst days, blanketing me into a perpetual darkness of misery and remorse. Yet, after the storm comes the beloved morning, just like how after every unsuccessful breakup comes the momentous breakthrough. And that's how even though I will never idiotically compose you onto a high pedestal ever again, I will never forget you, nor will I ever attempt to. Thanks to you I learned that not every laugh is genuine, and that not every twinkle of the eye symbolizes happiness. I learned that words could just be a useless, petty, and dull form of communication to someone else, while they mean the absolute world to another. I learned that promises are either based on the foundation of love, or on the foundation of want. That a promise, or commitment, is either the lid sealing a packed jar of truth, determination, and affection, or the lid atop of an empty, desolated jar. Basically, in a way in which you might not comprehend, thanks for helping me view you in a truth-revealing light. Thanks for helping me acknowledge that you were just a precious rose induced with venom; that you were just a blissful, and extravagant dessert drenched in food poisoning. That all those promises embedded into our relationship were really merely just jars consisting of empty air.

I'm not here to rebuke all of your flaws, and motives, because I know that deep, deep, deep inside, you actually are a good person. And I'll gratefully admit that though fate screwed me over, it also gave me a different perspective on life. One that I'll freely embrace and learn from. So, I wish you good luck for you and your future, and hope you do so for me as well.

Sincerely Yours,

Vince Hartwood

P.S.

Don't worry; one day, I'll rightfully find The One.

P.S.S.

I don't regret falling for your fool's gold.