I’m not sure if you’ll ever see this or know that it’s me who wrote to you. I don’t know if this will make you angry or sad or hurt. I’m really not sure of a lot of things in my life at this point in time. I want to blame you for that. You screwed up my plan. Our plan. We had a plan. I want to hate you for messing it up. I want to hate you for ruining my life. I want to hate you because you won’t let me get over you.
But I can’t. Because you aren’t at fault for any of those things.
It’s been months and I still can’t think about you without getting severely emotional. I miss our ways. The way you looked at me, the way you’d reach for my hand while we were driving, the way you laughed whenever I played with that one penguin at the Aviary. I hate to admit it, but I miss you. I miss waking up next to you and I miss our kisses. I miss exploring nature with you and catching all the crayfish and salamanders and fish. I miss you telling me that I am the most beautiful girl in the world. I miss how you would mash up your eggs with ketchup and hot sauce. I miss cuddling on your basement couch and eating fruit. I miss our weird words and phrases. I miss how you would lift me up when you were happy. I miss being there for you when you weren’t.
I miss so much of what we shared over those three years we were together. I say three years, because even though we were breaking up and making up way too often, we both knew there was really no one else we’d rather be with. And to be honest, I still feel that way. How am I supposed to move on from someone who was my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first love? I gave you everything. I gave you my time and my heart and my feelings and my opinions and thoughts (even when they were unwelcomed). I showered you with kisses until you pushed me away. I gave you hugs in public so often because I just couldn’t fathom how lucky I was to snag a guy like you. You really were a catch.
You gave me your everything, too. You gave me your time and your heart and your soul. You gave me your attention and your love. You gave me some of my very most favorite memories. You gave me confidence. You gave me hope. You gave me comfort. You were vulnerable with me. You made me feel so special.
In the end, though, I think that’s why we failed. We’d given too much. Neither you nor I had much left to give. We ran ourselves out trying to be so perfect for the other (and our families) that we just couldn’t make it work.
As I’m sitting here crying, I’m wondering when it will all stop hurting. When will I be okay with us ending? When will I be okay with not being your everything? That was toxic for the both of us. You know it wasn’t healthy. I know you know that. But just because it ended so badly doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Will I ever be able to wake up and not have a pit in my stomach from missing you? Will there ever be a day I won’t want to call you with any good news? Will there ever be a day that I can look at a picture of you without tears welling up in my eyes?
I don’t know.
I still harbor a lot of sad feelings toward us. We shouldn’t have ended like that. But you know as well as I do that we did need to end. You gave me too much. I took too much. You had all of me, too. We always were a little extreme, weren’t we?
You probably thought that I never wanted to speak from you or hear from you again. In truth, I thought I wanted that. I thought I wanted to forget about you because if I could forget about you, all the pain and hurt and anger and sadness would go away and I would be able to stop crying myself to sleep. You probably think that I hate you. I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. Do you remember me saying that when we were still together? I don’t think I’ll ever hate you. I didn’t hate you after we broke up. I hated being so torn. You were torn, too. How can you still love someone when all they do is break your heart? We didn’t even try to hurt each other. It wasn’t malicious. It was purely unintentional.
All I want you to know is that I regret nothing. You still mean just as much to me, but in a very different way. You taught me that love isn’t something that can heal all wounds. Mine couldn’t heal yours. Yours couldn’t heal mine. I don’t really think anyone can heal the hole we tore in my heart. I hope that maybe someday I’ll be able to find someone who can cauterize what’s still bleeding. We left a scar. It’s not pretty. A lot of people probably won’t ever think it will be. But I’m proud of it. I’m proud for all the lessons I’ve learned and the journey I’ve been on. I’m proud of how strong I am, even though I cry. I’m proud of the person I am today because of you.
Thank you for your everything. It’s time for you to give it back to yourself.
I hope you learn to love yourself as much as you loved me.
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