I’m sorry your life is not turning out the way you dreamed it would, but you can’t compensate with one more night in my bed and in my head with promises of love.

When you told me how you felt, it was everything I already knew. I wanted the satisfaction of hearing you say it, but, in reality, nothing felt worse. You did love me. Your love was for this object that you could take and leave at your own expense. You cared about me and who I was until it started to become something I depended on you to cushion. That was a job solely for me in your life.

I’m sorry your future is laid out for you. And I know I gave myself to you as one thing in your predetermined life that you could have control over. I wanted to be that for you at one point- just to see you feel something. But when I last saw you, I didn’t love you that way.

You are such an angry soul. In 3 years I have changed dramatically. I am not insecure enough to believe in you and to accept that just because you love me, I should wait for you until you are secure enough in yourself to accept me. You tell me how happy you are so weakly, without any description of how this may be so. That’s because you don’t know, because you aren’t. I know you- I know the phone calls until 3 in the morning where you would tell me the dreams you hide away for fear of losing face against the world. And that was the same face I saw you leave with. I shouldn’t know you so well anymore. You couldn’t possibly know me, but your actions are predictable because you won’t allow yourself to grow.

The truth is I am so moved on it scared me when I saw you last. I really felt nothing next to you, not even bliss. It is really hard to transition, but I still felt love. I just felt a grounded love based on truth. A love that asks if you will be okay, if you understand the depth to which I care, and if you will find happiness without me. Because you need to at this point.

You took a lot away from me. All the future that is manipulated in front of your eyes- you did that to me, so I understand how hard it is to recover. When I met you, I believed in a movie kind of love. You know I ate that shit up. And when you left me, the pain of a broken heart and crushed dreams had me bedridden for far too long. Every boy thereafter could not be trusted. No compliment meant anything, it was all just empty words like that which you gave me. The thing is, if in order for me to have someone in my life who was in love with me meant that they could use me, leave me, yell at me, and tear me down, then I would never let love into my life.

I’m done now. I'm willing to go back to telling people I love them, because life is too short to be afraid of that emotion. I'm ready to let go of this self-hate. Seeing you made me realize that your situation was not the same for everyone else. I do have a chance of something better. You always were my inspiration to write, and it’ll be hard to have that gone. I remember you asked if I would ever write about you, and I promised I would. I probably do more than I even know in the guise of self-fulfilling prophecies or commentary on the average day. Love and heartbreak really help you find things about yourself, and ours was crazy deep. I can’t wait for us both to find someone who will hit us even harder, and I hope this time it will be successful.

You asked if I still love you and I said I do without thinking. It’s a dimly lit flame in my heart as if for a vigil of something that once stood strong there. But I am not your crutch anymore for when things get tough. That’s not good love from me, and you shouldn’t want that. I used to say I don’t want you to find someone better, and that I wanted to be there when you become successful. Love is not what ours was, it's not co-dependent. Love is two independent souls walking parallel down whichever road they must take. We both deserve that; I honestly believe you do so much. My love now is this hope to see you thrive one day in your success...

Without me.