First off, I want you to know that it was true when I said I’d always love you, in a way I’d never love anyone else.
It’s been over five years now and I’ve had other relationships but I always think of you when I lay in bed at night, I see you in my dreams, and I miss you every morning when I wake up.
I want you to know the real reason I had to end it, but I can’t really tell you that, so I’ll post it here. I wasn’t secure enough in myself to be with a girl as beautiful and amazing as you, and I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I still think that is true. I was so obsessed with keeping you from discovering that you could do better that I started to become a jealous, controlling person.
I hated what I was becoming and what I was doing to you, and I decided to set you free. I knew it would most likely mean a lifetime of sadness and being alone for me, but I can be happy knowing that you will live a happier life without me in it.
I know this sounds like bullshit. It sounds like I broke your heart and realized what I had too late and am now trying to make up for it. That’s not true. I saw that you would never leave me, even as I was turning into a monster because every time you smiled at another guy or chatted innocently with one I thought, “this is it, she’s realized I’m worthless, I need to stop this.” Even at the time I knew it was irrational, but I couldn’t keep it from taking over my head.
I’m better now – calmer, more self-assured. But I know it’s too late. You’re a totally different person, traveling the world and living this amazing life. I’m a totally different person too, sitting alone in my apartment night after night. I know we can never be together.
I think the amount of love, passion, feeling, whatever you want to call it, that you caused me to experience was just too much for a seventeen year-old boy. Every day I wish I could go back, do things over, but I can’t. My seventeenth birthday will probably the happiest day of my life, because I spent it in bed, making love with you, the girl of my dreams. Remember when we set up a bed on top of the garage, and I made you come underneath the stars? Or when we collapsed, kissing, into a blanket of snow? I think about those times a lot now.
You were the one for me, but I wasn’t good enough for you and I knew it. You deserve to be happy, and the last time I saw you you seemed to be happy.
That’s why I’ll never send this letter.