I must have written you a thousand times. I never send them. I used to keep them but I don’t anymore and they have long since been deleted (or burned in fire). I stopped writing on paper or typing them. Now they just run through my head.
It has been years since we last talked. Years since the day you walked away and ripped my heart to shreds and then lit it on fire for me to deal with the ashes. Years since my friends lovingly handed me duct tape to mend the pieces. Years since they got so burned out they left me alone to wallow. Years since I took my duct tape self and kept going somehow. Years since I slowly tried to replace the missing parts. Years since I did and became a different person.
I am not the girl you walked away from as she bled on the floor. Nor are you the boy who walked away, I assume anyway. It has been years.
Objectively I know we didn’t work. I know it wouldn’t work and I will never see you again. Objectively I know this is best, that I am better this way, that I deserve better.
You were terrible in so many ways that I completely ignored when we were together. You had one foot out the door the entire time. You treated me like a convenience. You never respected me or my time. I was to be at your beck and call. I was your maid, your given, your keeper. I was your biggest fan, support system, roadie. I was the girl behind the boy. I was your love, your champion, your best friend (you told me that). I was pushing you forward only in the direction you wanted and only in the way you wanted. I was the best you ever had (your words). I was so in love and not just with you.
You were my family. Your family was my family. Hell, leaving them was terrible. I had never felt love like they showed me. You were my love, my first, what I thought would be my forever. I was so sure. But at the same time I was so afraid. I think subconsciously I always knew you would go. I could feel it. I knew your emotions before you did.
I gave up so much when we were together. I was trying so hard to keep it working that I lost myself. I became the force behind the relationship. I was the one doing all the chores, all the cooking, all the cleaning. I was so busy taking care of you I forgot to take care of me. I was paying all the bills and pushing myself so hard not to collapse. Part of me knew it wouldn’t work but I just couldn’t handle that. I thought love was enough.
I know it was wrong. I know this. It didn’t work. But I can’t help thinking about you, even years later.
We met by random chance. Neither of us was supposed to be there that night. But there we were. I never thought that night would change my life so drastically. In so many ways we were wrong but in so many ways we were right. I doubt you agree.
Unlike the letter that you wrote the first time you left (which was just to hurt me, the fight was over, we had made up, dramatic bs on your part), I didn’t burn your final letter. We burned that first one together. The last one and the love letters you wrote me are in a box in my basement with the other things you left behind that you didn’t want. That tear stained letter is stained with yours not mine. I never cried on it. Those were your tears. Those words still haunt me. Saying you couldn’t explain it, you just had to go. That you couldn’t picture life without me, that you would miss me. That you love me.
It has been years since I read that letter or looked in the memory box of all your stuff and what we shared. I still remember the words.
You unfriended me on facebook. I guess that is for the best. That was years ago. Sometimes I still look at your profile. I doubt you care enough to do the same.
You dated someone else for a while and that is over. I dated too, but not as seriously.
Some parts of me are still duct taped together. It has been years and I can’t say that I am better.
You used to piss me off so much. What grown man misses the toilet when peeing, knows he does so, and doesn’t clean it up? Do you have any idea how many times I stepped in that and had to wash my feet? I learned an awkward way of sitting on the toilet to avoid it. Come on. You never respected my time. I was supposed to make you dinner all the time but you would never tell me when you wouldn’t be home or what time you would be there. We had the stupidest compromise ever of you being allowed to be an hour late without notifying me and that was ok. There was a day I purposely did it to you just to see how you liked it. You didn’t. But that didn’t change a damn thing. There was a lot more.
Your friend and roommate who I think tried to split us up, yeah he hit on me when you left. Over and over. Tried to seduce me over text and online. Thought you should know.
I know we don’t work. We didn’t work. I won’t see you again and I know that is best. My head knows. But there you are in my heart and the back of my mind. I don’t think I would take you back if you ever tried but I know you wouldn’t. Maybe I would but so much would have to be different. Changes you would never make. I hate myself for still caring about you. You clearly don’t care about me. Maybe I will always love you.
You don’t know why, you just know you have to go.
But it is better since you left. I got a better job and then added a bunch more. Hell I have the time. I saved up enough and got a house. Ollie finally stopped looking for you. I finally stopped looking out the window waiting for you to come back. I stopped crying over you. I can listen to music again. I am a better person than I was. I know I am better without you. But I can’t help missing you.