To the person I love but have to let go,

Thank you for all the memories. You make me the happiest girl on earth and I say this without the slightest bit of exaggeration. Your jokes are so ridiculous. They always catch me off guard and have me rolling on the floor because of uncontrollable happiness. I have not met anyone else who has the same insanely childish, but extremely refreshing humor that you have. Your stories, on those rare moments you let yourself be vulnerable in front of me, are so captivating. Of course, I thought to myself, you have to have come from all those complexities in order to be as remarkably awesome as you are now. And our love, our love was a thing that burned ever so fiercely. At times it became too hot it hurt, but for the most part, it gave me an unparalleled warmth. It was a kind of love that embraced my whole being and nestled me in its gentle comfort.

All these memories I shared with you have played a great role in shaping the person that I am today. I know, it’s unlike me to sound pathetically cheesy, but it’s the truth. The person I am now: Gentle, genuine, and childlike is a product of our memories. Talking to you made me see this world with much more vigor and excitement. Having to tell you about my day heightened my observation of people, things, events, and pushed me to really see what’s new and special about each experience. You made it possible for me to be truly present. Since you, nothing was ever mundane. Every day became an adventure needed to be shared and I can’t thank you enough for that.

I’m grateful for your kindness. From all my weird quirks to my occasional indifference, you generously accepted them all. Truthfully, I don’t know what it is that compels you to admire me so much. I am way more flawed than the perfect individual you perceive me to be. Nonetheless, because of your enormous belief in me, I was convinced that I, too, ought to have a little more faith in myself. And in being at ease with who I am, I was able to build better relationships with the people around me. I became much less insecure, distant and downright acerbic. You made it easier for me to allow people in my life and was much happier because of that. Thank you.

But I can’t hold on to you. It’s true, we can have everything in this world, but never all at once. If I chose you, I’d have to let go parts of my ambition. I have to sacrifice, because relationships are made possible by sacrifices, opportunities that could advance my career but harm our relationship. As much as I try to convince myself otherwise, it’s an either or situation, at least at this point in our lives.

My mother always told me never to make decisions I’d regret. I can’t tell you with confidence that I followed her rule this time; I could only hope I did. Because I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you and in letting you go I’m giving ways for others to feel the same way. Trust me, I can’t bear to imagine the day when someone else stops you in your tracks, taps you on your shoulders, and completely shakes your world—just as I did. However, I can’t just ask you to hold your life on pause and wait for me. I know for a fact that as I doggedly chase after my dreams, I won’t be given the luxury to look out for you. Especially in the next tumultuous four years of our lives, you will need someone to always be there for you, and I can’t promise you that.

Also, I can’t deny the obvious fact that physical, geographical distance, with no means of seeing each other personally on a regular basis, will turn us into strangers. Try as we might, the different experiences will render us unable to understand each other, and it will be undeniably frustrating. Inevitably, we will turn against each other or blame ourselves for what is happening. I don’t want this relationship that has been so precious to me be tainted by the meaningless, mean arguments we’ll have as our daily lives become cluttered with stress and anxiety. I don’t have the heart and the stomach to see it gradually dim, eventually dying out.

I attempted to solidify my rationalizations in this letter, but I know just how badly I failed. There will never be a set of perfect words that can lessen the pain of a separation or a rejection. As I struggle to end this letter, just as I continue to struggle with the thought of letting you go, only two banal phrases come to my aid: Thank you and I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

The girl who’s foolish enough to let you go