I remember the night you said it. You were standing on my roof—yes, Mom and Dad, he was on our roof—at the end of the summer, about to leave for college. I had told you months ago that it wouldn’t work between us.

“I love you,” you said in the dark, the cars below us on the highway passing by. I was the only one in the world one who heard you say it. And I didn't know what to do with that knowledge.

“You don’t have to say it back,” you added.

I hesitated. I was slightly confused. “Thank you,” is all I could muster. I gave you a hug, you handed me a letter, and you climbed down my roof and left. I haven’t seen you since.

What I don’t understand is you said “I love you”. Present tense. I had told you I was leaving months ago. And still you came to say it. Why? I had broken your heart to pieces when I said goodbye the first time. From the voicemails you left over the summer, you seemed distraught. Utterly lost. Angry. And there you were at the end of the summer, saying you loved me.

So what was I supposed to say? That I didn’t mean what I said months ago? That I did secretly love you? No, I had already said goodbye. My heart had already begun to callous over toward the end of summer.

I feel like I shouldn’t have to apologize that I couldn’t say it back. As much as it probably broke your heart that night, I knew those words were mine to keep then. Someday I will give them away.

You fell really hard. You are a sincere boy, you aren’t afraid, you are vulnerable and you care so much about people. I hate that I left you with a bruised heart, but I had to do what I knew was right for me, and that was walking away. I'm sorry. We were two very different people. You wanted me to fit into your life, and I did too at the time, but I just couldn’t. Like my mom says, you can’t fit a round ball in a square hole. I had to stick with my faith and set my priorities straight. I had to stay true to who I was, and that was hard to do when I was with you.

Before you left that night, you handed me a letter. I didn't read it until a while later.

"I'm not angry at you for any of it... What you did took such bravery, and I should have been thankful you handled things the way you did. You were strong enough to stick up for what you really believed in, and that takes so much spirit doing something that's as hard as that. 'It was a privilege having my heart broken by you.'"

Whether you know it or not, your presence and absence in my past has taught me the biggest lessons of my life: Have faith. Be patient. Set limits.

Believe me when I say it was hard to come to grips with all of that. I have never cried harder in my life than that night after I told you why I had to say goodbye months before you told me you loved me. I hope you also believe me when I say there is a girl out there who will fall for you just as hard as you do for her. She will say “I love you” back, and she’ll never stop saying it.