To love lost,
I have to admit, I wasn’t confident about a lot last semester. Keeping up in school, thinking about my future, I could barely make time for you. But you were always there for me, I was confident in that. You made me feel more whole, more complete. I had everything I needed, a friend, someone who energized me. Then over summer, something changed.
When we first reunited in the fall, I could tell something was different. You were still basically yourself, but I could see the evidence of what had happened. You got greedy. You got lustful. You got a facelift, and judging from your portion sizes, you seem to have picked up an eating disorder. You are a shell of what you used to be. We used to have fun. We used to be social. I used to feel full.
I talked to your twin, the Lawyer. She said I wasn’t the first to come and see her after you changed, and she doubted I’d be the last. People are worried about you. You’ve lost sight of what’s important. You’ve whitewashed yourself and lost the real you. I still drive by your sister’s place sometimes. She still has everything I once loved about you—the friends, the family, the personality—but I know the distance won’t let it work.
Despite what you say, this can’t happen anymore… us… WE. We won’t work any longer. I know you don’t think I’ll leave. But you can’t change before my eyes and think I’ll sit right on back and let it happen. No, actually, you think you’ll get more out of me now—roughly five percent more or something. You think I’ll bump into you again, maybe at our usual spot. Truth is, I don’t have to take that route on my way to class. It’s not even the fastest. In fact, I might expand my narrow minded dating pool, setting my horizons past the boundaries of our shared campus.
I can avoid you and the awkwardness that we now entail. What really hurts is that I don’t even know what I did. Was it even my fault, or is this who you really are? All I did was love you. I saw you as much as I could, and brought you around my friends. They loved you! We all did. You … WE were something special, something I could believe in. You would always be comfortable and familiar but never fail to surprise me. Do you remember how every Wednesday we would go get our favorite meal together, spicy peanut chicken? You’d always get the tofu, but I never held it against you. Now it’s over, like it never even happened.
I guess what I really want to say is that it doesn’t have to be like this. You didn’t have to sell yourself to some “idea,” becoming what you had seen in magazines, but not in the mirror. I know deep down you really believe that slimming down and restyling is getting you more out of life, that people will give you just a little bit more—your friends with their time, your boss with his money and me with my love. But the whole world is full of people who look great. You were different because you didn’t seem to care about that. You knew what was important, never caught up in yourself. That’s what made you unique, and now that’s gone. After three great years of being together, I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I can get better elsewhere. I’ve always wanted to try Mexican, or maybe a little something from the Mediterranean. Don’t take it personally, you are probably the best piece of meat I’ve ever had.
I’ll miss you, Refectory.
P.S. Those ice cream sandwiches you used to make were obnoxiously good. What happened?
Travis Smith is a Trinity senior. His column runs every other Thursday. You can follow Travis on Twitter @jtsmith317.