I’m sorry. I’m sorry that everything I do hurts you anymore. I know that it’s just part of breaking up, but I’m still sorry because I still love you, whether you believe it or not. That’s the thing G; I’ve always loved you. Even now, my breath gets caught when I look at you. Your beautiful. I don’t understand why that beauty didn’t soak through. Why your so scared and apprehensive, so defensive and withdrawn. You’ve had crappy friends, sure, but that shouldn’t have turned you off to the whole concept of friends. You’ve had crappy relationships too, but haven’t we all? Your not supposed to let them hollow you out. Your not supposed to use that hollow place as a home.
I’ve tried my best a thousand times to tell you what I want. I want you to be happy. Really happy. Independently happy. I want that because I love you, a concept I don’t believe you’ve totally grasped. You see love in desperation and need. You think love can be measured by how much time two people want to spend together (every moment is ideal) and by who needs who the most. I see love measured in deeds done and in being the best we can be for ourselves and each other. In the last two years, we’ve moved up. We bought stuff. I got a better job and a new car and I’ve met a ton of friends. I’ve focused on learning and trying to figure out who I am and what I do. In the last two years, I’ve seen no movement in you honey. Just you, sitting and idly spinning your wheels, taking each month of rent paid for granted… each meal free. It hurt. It hurt so much that we’ve ended up here, another letter on so.there. It’s like Both Hand by Ani or 9 Crimes by Damien. It’s, for lack of a better word, effed. Totally effed.
There’s no way you’ll ever be strong with me in your life. Something about me makes you want to be weak, and therein lies our problem. I keep worrying that by cutting you out completely, I’ll be burning the bridge I so desperately believe will one day lead us back to each other. I know that’s not really true; I know that, given past experiences, nothing ever ends for real. Love never really dies all the way. Not in me, anyways. I love you and I believe that you’ll do it; you’ll open up and make good friends, you’ll go to school and keep a job. You’ll find ways to be happy without anyone. You’ll stop letting your mom or your crappy friends define who you are. You’ll be that most beautiful, perfect girl I fell in love with. If you don’t… if you don’t, I guess it wasn’t meant to be.
Stay strong G. If things get much worse between us, I’ll be pushing further off yet. I don’t see how they won’t get worse, but, as always, I’ll stick it out until it’s too unbearable to deal with. If you hate me, you hate me. Maybe I deserve it for wanting you to be something you may not be. It was a good two years, honey. It was a great two years. I love you and take care.