How funny it is to me that I would write you, of all people, a love letter.
But I’ve come to a place in the aftermath of being thankful —
Hear me out.
I am so incredibly thankful for the lessons I learned from being with you.
Maybe not everything. I wouldn’t say I’ve reached a higher plain of understanding and forgiving for all things, but you know what? I’m trying my best. I am open and pursing enlightenment, and letting go of the negative feelings.
A little at a time.
Because the truth is, I still might call you a bastard with all the heat my enraged, fiery Latina heart can hold.
(Which is a lot.)
Cause you were.
But I have to remember, even as I invest the breath to let words like that fly, I have to include myself in that accusation.
Okay. I wasn’t the bastard.
But I certainly was the idiot.
Or, maybe I was a bastard too —
A bastard to my goals, to my purpose, to my future.
So…I was an idiot…and a bastard.
I have to extend grace to the both of us so that I can move forward in peace.
Peace being the operative word, right?
The action of peace, in this case, is extending grace…
So that I can get on with my life.
I like that part…the getting on with my life.
Life has been so, so colorful with you absent from it.
And with these colors, come opportunities. And some opportunities, well, let’s just say I recognize them for paths to repeat the same lessons. And – ah, no. Thank you. The lessons I learned with you are sticking. Like super glue.
So, I’m thankful.
In this colorful phase, with the opportunities that are ahead, the various paths that appear at different points with each step, I leverage peace, I extend grace, I focus on appreciation…
I make better decisions.
All because of you, and what we were when we were together.