Dear K,
Would you mind if I call you my first love? Well actually, not really. Coz I was (and still is) so wholeheartedly in love with a what you called fictional character.
But thank you. That's all I wanted to say now. Thanks for what - you might ask (in fact you did, but I didn't reply).
Thank you for being so cruel to me, thanks for being so indifferent, thanks for teaching me how to turn love into hatred.
But nonono... I do not hate you. I used to. But not any more.
I used to hate you for not letting me love you. Hated you for tossing my love into the trash like they were meaningless. Hated you for kissing another girl in front of me. Hated you for calling me ugly when you actually did not think so. Hated you for embarrassing me in front of the class.
But I used to love you, too. I loved you for holding my hands so gently like warm breeze in a Spring afternoon. I loved you for preparing those surprises for me. Iloved you for writing those songs for me. Playing the piano for me. Singing out love songs for me. Murmuring beside my earlobe or through the telephone line telling me that you loved me. And that you would love me forever and ever and ever.
I thought I would break into pieces and could never be fixed into a whole ever again. I was wrong.
I recovered. I was stronger than you think. Stronger than I think, in fact.
Yet I wouldn't be able to recover myself without W. Ohh how much I loved you too,my dear W.
So thank you. Dear K. My darling. My precious. You are now nothing more than a passenger who used to onboard the train of my life. And thanks to you, I remained sane and kept going.
So that's what I wanted to thank you for.
Thank you thank you thank you. Very much indeed.
You made me grow up. And I did. As you wish.
May God be with you. Be happy.
xx
Leuliette