A Letter from the Editor

To Whom This May Concern:

You all saw it happen; my relationship status on Facebook went from 'engaged to Al Bonacorsi' to 'single' on Thursday night.

As a disclaimer, I want to say this is post is not about me venting about a relationship Dr. Phil himself couldn't save. This is about the people whom I love knowing that I am [almost] at peace with losing my other-half. And to those of you who have reached out to help me, I thank you dearly. I have never felt more alone than I do at this moment and you all are helping me through it marvelously.

But I know what went wrong.

Al and I fell madly in love when we were 15 years old and had the most perfect relationship in the world. Then, when we were both 16-going-on-17, Al made a good decision to leave the city of Center Line and continue high school in Plymouth, where he would live with his father, step-mother, and three siblings all under the age of 10.

I was devastated.

As we all know, the long distance killed us both and so early in 2006, Al took it upon himself to be the pants-wearer in the relationship and end it for the better. We didn't talk again until late 2007.

My relationship with another boy was ending violently and Al happened to be slowly returning into my life, with a few phone calls here and there regarding girl or music advice. Here lies the problem.

We partied at his apartment, went out with his friends, and did normal 19-year-old things; we felt as if we'd never broken up; we'd picked up where we'd left off. And it was beautiful.

About six months after the rediscovered happiness, Al made a decision, for our future, that would change everything.

On October 3, 2008, Al left for a 4-year stint in the U.S. Navy and never looked back. Of course, he proposed to me on September 21st before he left, to assure me that just because he was leaving, he was just as serious about the relationship as I was.

But the year he was gone I saw him a grand total of one month and it killed me. I went from seeing him everyday to drastically only talking to him less once every couple of weeks. During marching season, I'd miss his weekly Saturday morning phone calls and it hurt so much that even now I tear up thinking about it.

We got through the distance but I was never the same. He returned from the Navy right before Halloween 2009 and had no intention of going back. He was staying with me; I did it; I had him back, all to myself.

I had him back, all to myself, but I couldn't remember how.

After that year of dependent living as a college kid with 19 credits, a part-time job, a marching band, and a dream of a music career, I'd forgotten how to have a relationship with somebody in person.

He checked back in and I was already checked out.

For a year, we'd been struggling with time, or lack thereof. We had our differences but overall, they weren't big enough to worry over. We used to say that our biggest argument was debating whether or not Batman was a superhero... I only wish I could still say the same thing.

Through 2010 we noticed little things going wrong here and there. Then bigger arguments began occurring that involved picking apart each-other like monkeys picking lice out of each-other's hair... This transformation hurt the most. We had become two people who care about each other deeply but can't seem to be together for too long without getting annoyed with the other's presence.

That brings us to today. We grew up together and we grew apart together. We're not the same people we were before he left and that's not either of our faults. We can blame each other for changing, or for becoming more emotional, or for growing up too fast, or for not growing up enough, but what does that solve?

We care about each other enough to know that we don't belong together anymore. Our childhood love is in our memories and our most recently found love exists in the form of friendship, no longer romance. We lost our spark. It happens. I never thought in a million years that I'd have to say (or write) it but it happens.

I'm sorry for the way it had to brutally and slowly end, but we were both just too chickenshit to call 'em like we see 'em. I'm also sorry because Al loves me more than anyone in the whole world could love another person. And I took it for granted. We have petty differences; everyone does. But I couldn't let him love me because of them. And now I know what I had and it's gone, as corny as that may be.

However, we both do have a lot of growing up to do and I feel that this is simply a warning that if we don't do it alone it's gonna get uglier than it has been in the past. I don't think anyone wants to witness that.

The bottom line is this: We will always love each other, no matter what sort of childish shit Al pulls on me or what sort of emotional PMS I lash out at him. I always tell people, "If it's meant to be, it will be," and that's all I can tell myself right now. We will always love each other but it's just not meant to be.