Conversations I've Never Had with You

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Conversations I’ve

Pamela Hu

Never Had with You


Conversations I’ve Never Had with You These are conversations I should’ve had sooner, eventually, years ago, inperson, in real life, somehow, somewhere, with you, period. These are conversations I would’ve had but your eyes terrified me and I couldn’t look into them without stuttering my gaze. Your eyes terrified me and my vowels clammed up and my throat closed in. These are conversations I could’ve had but I was too full of pride, scared, nervous, overwhelmed, stubborn, ashamed, a coward, a perfectionist, convinced I had more time. Shoulda, woulda, coulda.


So now there are these words I’ve put in your mouth because I needed to hear you say them but I knew you might not, and there are these words I’ve written down because I needed to say them but I knew I might not. If I’ve learned anything it’s that the hardest words to swallow are the ones that never left your mouth. Now, writing this, whatever this is, is the best I can do. I hope it’s enough.  — P.H.

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“I want you to know, if you ever read this, there was a time I would rather have had you by my side than any one of these words.�


You don’t know what I went through. I guess not.

Don’t you want to know what I went through? 4



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It’s 2:34AM and I’m falling asleep writing this. I’m caught somewhere between a dream and awake. I can see— We’re reaching the end of the beginning or maybe it’s the beginning of the end. I don’t know which one is better, which one is worse. I’m warning you— If we keep going we might not ever come back. It’s just too far and there’s just too much. I’m begging you— Stay awake with me. Stay awake. Stay.

We never did go back.

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You had these warm eyes and good intentions, and you had me in a constant soft adrenaline, and you had a casual flawless kind-of unawareness for ruining me, and you had no idea that I would write about you, because really you just had no idea at all.


I think unknowing is called ‘forgetting’ I think never knowing is called ‘bliss’

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You can’t force people to care about you. Even worse, you can’t force yourself to stop caring about other people. Everyone I’ve ever met has taught me that to some degree. But you —you never gave me a chance to forget it.


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You were right, and I always knew you were right. But that’s just it real life is like knowing you were right always but wanting to be wrong some times. Because real life is like you and me instead of you and me. So then real life is like admitting, “I wanted to be wrong for you.”


Just romantic movies and such Real life isn’t like that

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Sometimes, the best things to happen to you are the ones that don’t. I didn’t.

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You said I was a mystery, and I say —  Maybe it was not so much you trying to figure out me, but you trying to figure out you. Then again, what do I know? I’m still trying to figure out me too.


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“Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on. I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.â€?

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Do you miss your family? Not really. Do you miss your friends? No. Do you miss anything? …My girlfriend. Really? Yeah… But not enough to talk to her again? No, and, it wouldn’t be the same.


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Do you believe in starting something you can’t finish? It’s not so much that I believe in it as much as it just happens. Not everything you do needs to make it to the end. Sometimes just starting is enough for you to figure out what you needed from it.

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One thing that really got to me was that she didn’t seem to trust me like, deep down or at least she had times where she didn’t seem to trust anybody and also things were sometimes kinda tense because things get competitive… I didn’t really care because I knew she had more potential than me, but sometimes it seemed like she was competing with me. What’d you do? Did you try to fix her? That never works.

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Yeah I’ve noticed that you’re quite good at internalizing like whenever you had some worry or insecurity it was quite hard to tell from the exterior Why do you think that is? Maybe the world grew hard on you…and you grew back harder. So what do I do? I can’t tell you that. Even if I knew the answer, I couldn’t tell you that. 28


We have this fascnation, like this dire need, to preserve everything. Legacies, memorials, statues, monuments, archives, photos… It makes me think of this one quote… um, “We are dead stars looking back up at the sky.” What does that mean? It means… we’re recycled energy. We’re a collision of what has been and what will be. We’re not meant for eternity. Do you really think that? I think if stars — with their furious and demanding presence — have the humility to let go of forever, why can’t we?


Everything is temporary.

Are you scared or relieved?

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Remember what you said? It bothered me for a while, yeah. But I needed someone to say that to me.


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We talked everyday for, what, two and a half years? Even when we were at our busiest, we found a way to talk. I always believed that we make time for what we value, and I guess, back then, what we valued was each other. In all its aftermath, and the words we’ve said, all the beautiful and hurtful words we’ve ever said to each other, you know what I hold onto the most? You know what words I still hold onto from you? “When we told each other about our day… yours always seemed more exciting.” Because up until that point, I had always wanted an exciting life but I couldn’t see that I was already living one. And once I saw, I knew, that’s how I’ll always want to live my life even if you can’t be a part of it.


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I want you to know that there’s a combination of words out there that I haven’t quite figured out yet, maybe that I haven’t even discovered yet, but that you deserve. I’m still working on it… it’s a lot harder than I thought it’d be. I think it starts off with something like, “I’m sorry” and it ends with… I’m not sure how it ends. I’m not sure I want it to. I think if it were up to me, I could spend hours in conversation with you. But that’s just me.


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“Please, consider me a dream.”

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I can’t tell what are stories I love that You love what? You can’t tell what are stories 44



For the girl who spent Stockholm, Gothenburg, and Copenhagen with me— Can you believe we did this? Can you believe we saw, walked, breathed, freezed, lived this? A friend asked me what my favorite part of this trip was, and I said you. Because I think I’ll always be in some sort of love with the conversations we got to have. Your words held me together in a way that mine couldn’t. Thank you for your restaurant-researchwizardry, making me laugh as hard as I did, as much as I did, and the sincerity you have, always. I’m so lucky that I get to keep knowing you.

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Finished, but never really.


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