I Wish We Had More Time

To V, the boy I first loved from across a balcony,

I hope this letter finds you the way happiness finds us when we least expect it. I hope that, when you finish reading, you can forgive me.

This letter is different from the others. In them, I was the one left with a broken heart. This time, you are hurting in ways I can’t describe, and I am the one who hurt you. I hope you forgive me. If you can’t, I will try to understand.

I never wanted to break anyone’s heart. I know what it is to carry the pieces everywhere you go. But I broke yours, and all you did was smile at me. You are exceptional, my friend. You will remain so for as long as my hands can write and my heart can love.

I remember the first time I saw you. You had a cigarette in your hand. You glanced at me shyly, and when I looked back, you turned away. There was something about you that made me look for you every time I sat on the balcony. I would wait for you to glance at me, then look away. That was our thing. We were perfect balcony lovers.

Then came the day you finally spoke to me. I had decided I would ask your name, or at least say hello. Before I could, you said, “Excuse me, I have no wrong intentions, but you are adorable.” I will never forget your smile. It was so honest, so unguarded. You looked scared and happy all at once. That was where our story began.

We went from stealing glances for hours to sitting together at your place. Life taught us how to love, break, heal, support, cry, smoke, end things, and say goodbye. Whenever I think of Delhi, I think of you. How could I not? You were special then. You are special now. Whatever is in your heart will keep guiding you toward what is right. There are things I won’t say, and things you may not want to hear. But we both know what they are.

We went from saying good morning at six to saying good night at midnight. We became more than friends. I could never fit you into a single letter, so I wrote you many. We may not be able to be together in the way the world expects, but we will always belong to each other in our own way.

Delhi will always bring you back to me, especially the balcony and the alleys we walked through hand in hand, smiling. We smiled until our cheeks hurt. We cried until our eyes felt raw. I did that to you, and I am sorry. My apology can’t undo the hurt, but I hope it helps you carry a little less of it.

From asking me for my hotspot to no longer asking at all, we grew up and apart. I wish I had met you before my life went haywire. Maybe you could have spared me a thousand heartbreaks. But life has its own way of bringing people close, then leading them away again. I don’t know whether to blame life or myself.

I wanted to tell you all the stories I keep buried in my heart. I wanted us to laugh until our stomachs hurt. We didn’t do justice to the love we had, or to ourselves.

Life can feel like misery when you know how much it can take from you. When you don’t, it can look like a fairytale. For a while, ours did. You will live on in the stories I tell my children, and in the stories I keep only for myself. It is the least I can do.

I can’t ask you for anything. You gave me more than I deserved, and I want to thank you for it. I am grateful to the universe for sending you to me.

I wish we’d had more time. I wish I hadn’t broken your heart. I hope everything ahead of you is good, though you’ve never needed luck to make your way. Still, good luck, my dear friend.

I’ll think of you when I see the moon. I’ll send you a hug when I look up at it. Not a physical one, but you know what I mean.

I will never run out of words for you. You have a piece of my heart. Keep it safe until I come back to take it. If I never do, know that I trust it to be safe with you.

With the love I could not protect, and the apology I still carry,

Yours,
Boycut