Hello you, again.
Let me start off by saying this: I never thought we would be over, but I knew it was real when you changed your relationship status from “in a relationship” to “single.” It’s funny how we let social media dictate so much of our lives.
First off, I don’t regret you and I never will. You were my best friend and everything I wanted, at the time. I’m lucky to have had something that makes saying goodbye so hard, as Winnie the Pooh once said, but it has come time to let things go. You can stay in my heart, but unfortunately, not my life. So remember me, remember us, and all that we used to be. We started with a simple hello and ended with a complicated goodbye. So this is the point where I let you go, which is so hard because some part of me will always love you. However, this running in place, the false hope that has me thinking that maybe someday it will work out, it’s not healthy for me. So this is me, cutting our cord. This is my goodbye to you.
I have said time and time again to all of my friends that I need to let you go. I even went as far as saying that I would give you up for Lent and I’m not even Catholic, as you know. I need to move on and delete you from my life, both figuratively and literally. But the hardest thing I'll ever have to do is walk away when I am still madly in love... with you, with us, with everything.
You deleted most of the social media friendships we had, so that's easy enough. I deleted your number, not that it matters since I have it memorized. We avoid each other like we have never talked a day in our lives, even with the history that both of us try so hard to forget and despite the fact that this university is not big enough for the two of us and all of our friends. Then there's that part of me that still holds on to that little girl-ish fantasy that we are meant to be, after all and after everything we’ve been through that we’ll be okay in the end. As if we shouldn't just let it end so abruptly--maybe, just maybe. This is the part of me that realizes how disappointing that this is what we've come to. We can barely talk to each other in person because the feelings still cut too deep. I wonder if it will always be this way or if we will be able to have a normal conversation without the past memories and desires sneaking into my mind. I guess I just have to accept that this is as far as our relationship is meant to go and be grateful we had it at all. I was blessed to have you when I did, so thank you.
I never realized that when you grabbed my waist and whispered in my ear that Friday night as if we would have a thousand more Fridays together, that it would actually be the last one. Two days later, we broke up. Two months later, I found myself drunkenly sending you the "I miss you" text, which was more like “U missd yiu” because I’ve never been very good at drunk texting. Then all of a sudden, three months later, there you were. Saying "I miss you" and how you wanted to start over.
Maybe if we were a little older and our lives weren’t so chaotic, it would work. Maybe if I hadn’t asked you to start over, which you responded with a “no,” when we first broke up, it would work. Maybe if you had responded to my drunk texts of sadness, it would work. But unfortunately, my love, it isn’t that easy. We’re both complex individuals and we both know it. Gosh, I hate even thinking of you as my love. But that’s what you are, but maybe one day, you will become "that boy I loved when I was 18" or "the boy I’d thought I’d marry one day but it was a wrong place, wrong time, situation." Perhaps sooner, rather than later.
But as for now, I have to say goodbye, one last time. I need to look into your deep brown eyes and rip it off like a band-aid. We will never say “see you later” or “see you soon” again because words like "soon" and "later" are not in our future. We were only meant to be a short lesson to each other in this huge world of endless possibilities and dreams and with that, I bid you adieu.
With love and (some) regret,
Hannah
