I don’t know what to do about my lingering feelings for you.
I’m a completely different person now than when we were together. I’m well liked. I have friends, dating prospects. I do things for fun. My job still stresses me out but I think I’ve developed some pretty good ways to let go of that stress. My girlfriends tend to complain about my compulsive refuse to ever plan anything, and that sometimes my complete lack of possessiveness makes them feel unloved.
I live where we were supposed to live. Every time I discover something wonderful about this city, which still happens pretty darn frequently, I feel a great sense of loss about not being able to share it with you. Every time something bad happens to me I’m painfully aware that nothing will make me feel better anywhere near as quickly as a hug from you used to.
I been involved with 6-7 different people since you, about half of them since I moved up here, and I still miss you. Almost every single breakup involved you in some way — either they felt they’d never be able to live up to the standard you set, or they felt threatened by you… The one genetic boy I dated got weirded out and left after he realized that even though I’ve gotten major league into verbal humiliation, I wasn’t even remotely cool with anything negative being said about you.
I miss how quiet you were. Everyone I date now seems to talk too much. It used to drive me nuts — I’d be stressed out and feeling overwhelmed, losing it all over the place and you’d be sitting there like a stone pillar… Now I miss it like crazy. I miss how adventurous you were when it comes to food. Everyone I date now has some kind of ridiculous dietary restriction going on. It drives me bonkers. Nothing is ever as simple and beautiful as it was with you.
I’ve spent a heck of a lot of time beating myself up over how possessive, needy, manipulative and controlling I was towards you. You’re a remarkable human being and an amazing woman and I had nothing when I lived in Irvine. No real friends, no real romantic prospects. So I held on for dear life to the one good thing that did wonder my way — you. I didn’t really realize just how evil and wrong what I was doing was until I saw just how much happier you got immediately after dumping me.
You can’t possibly imagine how much time I’ve spent beating myself up.. Not over having screwed up my relationship with you, which did mean the world to me, but over the fact that I’d made you an unhappy person. When I met you you were full of life and happy and amazingly beautiful in every conceivable sense of the word, and I wanted to be near you in the vain hope that some of that would rub off on me… Instead, after 2 years, I’d infected you with my misery. And I didn’t even see it until you’d gotten rid of me and suddenly became the person I’d fallen in love with again.
I’m having enormous trouble forgiving myself for that.
I think I still love you every bit as much as I ever did.
I’ve written this entire Email and I’m not going to send it because I can’t bear the thought that maybe it’d actually convince you to let me back into your life, and that maybe then I’d once again be guilty of making you unhappy. I write you these sorts of Emails all the time. I never send them. But I miss you so much and I can’t get you out of my head.