Hi.
It's been a while.
I'm going to be blunt here. Our final moments together haunt me. I constantly ask myself if I did the right thing letting you go. I wonder if I should have waited a little longer. You were completely right when you said that you thought it felt sudden. It was. To be perfectly honest, I didn't wake up that morning expecting to break up with you. But I did. And now here I am, having to live with it.
Ever since I drove away, I've wanted to say this:
I'm sorry.
You deserved better.
You deserved someone that could love you authentically and unconditionally.
I made an impulse decision ending our relationship and I regret it everyday now. I thought that maybe if I rushed it and got it over with, the sting wouldn't be as bad.
I thought that maybe I wouldn't ever have to see you again and that would make it easier to get over you.
I didn't realize that I would be seeing you at the opening night of the musical I directed.
Seeing you stand there in the corner, avoiding eye contact with me all together broke my heart all over again. It was in that moment that I realized the anger you must feel towards me. I understood.
A few days after that, I realized that you had blocked me on all of your social media. I understood.
I also didn't take into account that I would be driving past your house almost everyday for the next two months on my way to the theatre. On the same drive, I also passed the coffee shop where I broke up with you. I haven't been back there since.
One night, a week ago, on my drive back from the theatre, I decided to take a right turn. I drove past your house. It was dark and raining, just like it was the night we first kissed. I saw your house with the porch lights on, like it was when I used to drop you off after our dates.
And then I started to cry.
You don't know how badly I wanted to park my car and run up those steps and just ask to see you. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry and that a part of me still loved you.
It doesn't make sense, when I was the one who ended things. I'm not one to admit when I'm wrong. But this time, I do admit it. I was wrong.
You have every right to be angry and hate me.
I had to make a decision that was right for me. I couldn't love someone if I didn't love myself first.
And for that, I am sorry.