A Letter to the Ex

You taught me all about shoes, and no one rocked them four-inch heels the way you did. It's almost unfair, how effortless your grace was. Neither stairwells nor cobblestone streets could stop your ballerina-like steps. Such elegance. Such class. Such beauty. I feel embarrassed for women who stomp around the office with the poise of a Tyrannosaurus.

I still remember our first real conversation. You borrowed my mobile phone and commented on how neither of us used those annoying shortcuts when sending messages. I caught you browsing through my inbox, and we both laughed. For all we know, your laugh could cure Cancer and put an end to poverty as we know it.

I still remember the smell of the elevator where you first held my hand. I didn't know how to react, so I pretended like it was nothing. It was at that point that you kissed my cheek. I was seventeen, and I had never felt my heart beat so fast.

I still remember the first time we kissed, and the text message you sent half an hour later. "It took three shots of vodka to calm me down after our kiss." I was still in the car, and it's as if time had stopped.

I still remember the four years that followed, when we were still in each other's arms. These days alcohol doesn't seem to work anymore, instead I resort to looking at pictures of us for comfort. I listened to our song as I wrote this. "They don't love you like I love you." I really hope, for my sake, that someone will someday prove you wrong.

Another girl broke my heart today, Camille. I sure wish you were here to put the pieces back together... Or kick her in the face with your high heels.