"Loving you was my marathon, but you stopped before the finish line"

Photo: Pinterest

Hello Anabel,

It's been a while since I tried to write an e-mail to you, with the hope that it will be published anonymously, of course, as a memoir of a love left in suspense and with the idea that it can always return to publication.

Thank you <3

"I have often found myself with this open email window, overcome with the desire to write about you.

Here I am again today, hidden behind e-mail, because I can't tell you things face to face anymore, I can't even tell you through text messages for fear that maybe you'll really think that 'it's teenage love.' In fact, it's not, or it is, but what does that matter now, because from today on, our situation is no longer the same.

Your message today, unlike other times, the past weeks or yesterday, where you tell me as a surprise that you have someone in your life, broke down every wall of my heart. I never claimed that you were only mine, taking as a reason the fact that I was never all yours either, but our love was something. It was my love! With you I became playful, loving, carefree, sometimes even 'stupid', because I caught myself simply waiting for your name to come up on my phone.

I felt you to the core the last time we met. I remember your scent, I know how you breathed, I feel your brief kiss on my lips every day, your words in my ear, your embrace.

Strange, how loves (maybe not like ours) never end together. And you know very well that we were never destined to be together, but we never stopped talking. I never stopped running to catch up with life, work, commitments, and you never tried to catch up with me in the marathon of my affections. You stopped at lust, at the desire of the moment, and then at the logic of the brain, telling yourself that maybe this marathon wouldn't have a medal for you, and you let it go.

Today you run for another marathon, with a happy ending and a gold medal, leaving me on my own, with a slowed pace and love held hostage, waiting for chances, just like Banksy's graffiti, documented in the museums of Barcelona.

Loving you was my marathon, even though the obstacles on the way to your heart were greater than my competitive spirit.

I know that somewhere along your journey you will give me signals that I am there, with you, that you have thought of me. I also know that your name will appear to me one day, telling me that you miss me, that you would like to kiss me again, that you would like me to be your wake-up and sleep (which I regret that I never was). I also know that I have lost the challenge of not loving you, and that I am alone in the battle with the emptiness and the attempts to not write any messages to you. But at least you will have this e-mail, which you can return to whenever you stumble upon obstacles during your run.

I will always be here, for you, thinking of you, because in any marathon, alone or together, you will always be the champion in my heart.

I love you!”