Dear "He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named" (and no, we are not talking about Voldemort here),
When you came into her life, you came into ours. When you came into her heart, again, you also gained a place in ours. Similarly, when you left her side, you most definitely left our sides. It's not every day that she would have something boy-related to tell us, and so, when it does happen, it's not quickly forgotten. Your name used to pop up on her phone, bring a smile to her face, and be something that would result in giggles and promised details in the future. However, some things are just not meant to last, and some things are destroyed in ways that will not be easily mended (YOU took part in the latter).
It would be easy to tell you that it meant nothing to her, that she bounced back immediately. It would be easy to smile and say she did just fine, that she is doing just fine. You were a fond memory; a treasured chapter, that while it won't be reopened, was wonderful while it lasted. It would be easy to lie.
We have no idea how you're doing now. Maybe, you're fine, or maybe you're pretending to be fine. That's great, on the surface, we really hope you are. On a deeper level, you wrecked our trust and our well-wishes, but for the good of everyone, we still try to find it in us to forgive you, as Christ forgave us.
The truth is, you went from filling her heart, to merely leaving a scar there. You are the presence that appears every time we visit the place that hosted your first date. You are the realization that things will be different. You are the what if's, the but's and the why me's. You are the cause for the restless mind some nights, the underlying thought of romantic country songs. And you need to know that. You need to know it wasn't okay, and it still isn't.
But, maybe, I should thank you. Your exit was the launchpad for personal realizations, convictions and unshakable relationships with other friends and the one who designed love, itself. In every hard time, she has been able to find strength and beauty in life. You were not all she had, and now you never will be.
So, peace out, boy scout. I hope one day you might change.
Love,
Liz.
Ps. We still laugh at your dumb socks and sandals.
