It has been one year since you left me.
My day has gone better than I’d expected. I’ve been busy though, so maybe it’s just been a distraction. In the year since you’ve left me, a lot of my better days have been due to distraction.
I’ve been thinking about writing to you on this day for the better part of the year now, and my heart has pulled me in many different directions, but now that the day is here, I’m really at a loss of what to say apart from… you broke me. You really and truly left my heart and my soul in shambles. Out of the past 365 days, I have only seen you on a handful of them. And yet, I have felt the ramnifications of your past decisions throughout every single passing moment.
I am not angry anymore. I hardly even feel flustered when I think about the opportunities you passed up with me in favour of someone new. I remember being on the verge of working myself into an episode a couple of weeks ago, but the moment passed, and my day went forth. That’s not to say I am no longer sad, or burdened. Of course I am sad. Your absence from my life will be a burden for as long as I love you, and the kind of love I feel for you never really goes away. But I am not angry with your decisions anymore. I am not angry with my current situation anymore. And I guess that’s really as good as it gets!
I wish that I had the strength to reach out to you again and see what your life looks like today. If I’d known back then what I know now however, I would have never been in touch with you at all since the day you left me. I’m not over you, and reintroducing you to my life now would only stand to prove it.
I think I might start writing to you less. Maybe even altogether. I’ve run out of things to say to you, really. It doesn’t help that you do not receive any of these anonymous letters in the first place. Perhaps someday I will direct you to this site, but then I realize that’s not doing either of us any good.
If I could have done right by you… I think that I would have told you from day one why you could never be my friend–and for reasons so much more than just the pain of seeing you happy without me. I just know that friendship is something I could never have attained from you after all was said and done. In some respects, I feel like I never truly was your friend in the first place. It wasn’t fair to put either of us through the same relationship we’d just been through only to have it sullied by a label far less sacred.
And that’s what my life’s struggle has been this past year. Coming to terms with what I’ve known all along, but been far too terrified to admit. I don’t want you in my life. I didn’t want to prolong what was inevitable. And now I understand that, no matter what we could have shared, no matter what I feel I missed out on, no matter what that second chance would have created, I would still be alone. I would still have your back turned towards me.
The very first time I ever saw you, I was closing the door of your car as I tucked my legs inside and laughed at your nervous joke about my height. The very last time I saw you, you were closing the door to my apartment as your nervous stare disappeared behind the crack of light from the hallway outside. One thing has never changed in all this time, xxxxx. I can know everything there is to know about you, and yet still know nothing about you at all.
For the first time, I think this really is goodbye. The day you left me was the first day of the rest of my life, and today feels something like the second.