Letting Go of Matthew.

I knew the day would come where I’d have to do something I never thought I would. It would be something odd and a bit different, but make quite a vast difference in my life. It’d take time to fully understand, and even more time to get used to it. But I would do it. And after I did, I would expect him to go on too.


I could see it in his eyes that the moment was now. It’s like I looked at a completely different man. I began preparing for the worst before I even knew of a solo word out of his mouth. He didn’t even have to verbalize anything to me to cause a single teardrop after our departure.
But he did.

Every word coming out of his mouth shut me up, pushing me into the utmost silence of my life. I hoped with every hope I detained inside that he wouldn’t ask a question, as my tongue was ceased. I knew at that moment I was making this into the most dramatic point in time ever, but I couldn’t help it. He spoke of things I knew I had to accept.


His eyes looked straight into mine as the words so freely left his lips, “I can’t stand in the way of your life and be such a distraction. You deserve far more than this. You’ve held onto me for three and a half years. It’s time to move on, don’t you agree?”

There it was. The question. I had no idea of the answer as I searched my mind for one. I was making this harder than it should be. Fortunate enough for me, he didn’t need an answer to continue.

“I can’t make you happy, I can’t feel the way you do, and I certainly can’t live this imaginary life anymore. You’ll have to let go of me eventually.” His eyes looked dark with tiny sparkles in them. I could hardly detail his features in my mind anymore.
Finally I found my voice and spoke softly, “But without you I have no one.”
“No, without me you do. I’ll always stand in the way until you let go.” He was serious. As much as I wanted to deny his speech and argue against him, I was the one who’d be lying to myself.

“And why can’t I have you, yet still live my life? Why must I move on?” My eyes began to water, waiting for his reply.

“Because then you wouldn’t be making room for someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yes. Someone who could care for you. Someone who could make you laugh out loud. Someone who could take you places. Someone who could explore the world with you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“But what if he never comes? What if the world is right? What if I believed in the non-existent? That there’s no one who’d simply just wait…”

“What if he does? What if the world is wrong? What if you believed in what you’d be given? That one day you’d find someone who didn’t need to tell themselves to wait to be what you deserved.”

“So I have to let go of you?”

“I’ll find my place. Eventually we’ll meet again, trust me. But it will indeed require more waiting.” He moved closer to me and wrapped his arms around me. I couldn’t explain how, but the hug seemed so real. I felt this overwhelming comfort that I never experienced before, only for the cold empty space in between us to form after he let go. As much as I wanted that hug to last, I knew I’d have to wait for another one to come after he left.

“I brought you here, I realize that,” I admitted, looking down. When I met his gaze again, I pondered, “Where exactly will you be?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “That, my dear, I cannot declare. But you created our bond somehow, right?”
I felt saddened once again, “I don’t believe I’ll find someone as perfect as you are to me.”

“That’s because they’ll be even better. Trust me, he’ll stand out to you. You’ll have quite a strong companionship that’ll form into bondage. Your friendship will be special and different. But do me a favor?”

I tilted my head before replying, “A favor?”

“Yes. Don’t base anyone off of me. Don’t make me the standard.” He took my hand in his and held it gently, smiling. “I’m just your mere imagination. A symbolized version of what you desire. But sorry to say…no one knows what they need.”
“Ah, so I suppose I got your name wrong?” I gave him a shy smile.
“Well, yes, actually. But that’s okay. You like surprises, right?” He grinned down at me, still holding my hand. But I knew this marked our final minutes before I truly said good-bye.

“I’m sure he’ll amuse you so much so that you won’t even think of me anymore!”
“But I would be thinking of you.” I winked and smiled. “You’ll just have a different name. And perhaps a more detailed appearance. Maybe different favorites and different…well, a lot will be changed!”

“Yes, but for the better! A perfect little design by God just for you. I apologize if I don’t recognize you at first.” He frowned, letting go of my hand. Taking a step back, he added, “Don’t look for me when I’m gone. You won’t find me if you search.”
I nodded with a heartrending expression, knowing that this was the moment I’d be letting him go completely. But I wasn’t feeling any type of pain. It was more of an excitement, believing that somehow…this was the last step to making him genuine. In order to find him I had to let him go and trust him.

“Remember what you always told me?” he asked. “Sometimes the answer is staring you in the face. We’re so busy looking beyond what’s right in front of us that we miss out on the greatest things.”

“You’re completely right.”

“Duh. I’m perfect, remember? You created me.” He laughed aloud as I joined him.
“I look forward to meeting you again.” In conclusion, I gave him one last hug. He returned the hug with a warm embrace before stepping away to begin his journey. Turning around, he stared at me.

“Farewell,” he said strongly.

“Good bye, Matthew.”

At that moment I watched him walk away. Every perfect feature, characteristic, trait, and every detail I made of him began to fade. Every step he took represented every step I created. Slowly he was disappearing as I learned to let go with confidence. Soon enough I saw nothing in front of me. Now he was only a dream I refused to wake from before. And as I now felt more alive, I imagined the day he’d make his appearance again—as someone else in flesh.

I remembered his hug fairly well and missed it greatly.