I know you will never see this so I might as well address it. I am writing this letter to tell “you” everything that I can’t find the courage to tell you in person. So, pull up a seat. This will be good.
I’m pretty sure I fell into a depression, and if I didn’t, I was borderline. It was to the point where I would cry so hard I would shake, and I would shake so hard, you could actually see it. I had to keep a hand towel next to my bed because I needed something to dry my face off with. It would make me so upset, and cause me so much stress, I would get sick in the middle of the night. I never got to the point of suicide, because subconsciously I knew I would never act on it. But I was dead inside, and there is still a part of me that was you that is now withered and lifeless.
At first when you moved on, I wanted to die. I didn’t want to see it, or think about it or you. But that was all I ever did… think about you. It took such a toll on me seeing you treat her like you treated me. Now, I don’t cry, and I can bare to see it, but I still don’t like it. And that is the only way I can describe it. I don’t like seeing you with her. She isn’t me. Those pictures of you aren’t us and I think it still gets to me. And all of these new girls you have talking to you and thinking your cute, it churns my stomach the wrong way, and makes me nervous. Because I guess I miss you.
I also think it’s the face that I’m not used to being alone. You ruined me. It freaks me out when I don’t have someone to talk to because we didn’t go a second without texting or calling or even video chatting. And now, I might hear my phone buzz once, but it usually isn’t you.
That’s another thing, it’s weird talking to you now. It’s hard for us to carry a conversation. I know it may just be your lack of social skills, but I would think that we would be able to talk like we used to. But I guess not…
I’m not going to say that I miss you, because there is no use. I have accepted the fact that we will never be together ever again. But I haven’t accepted the fact that you don’t love me anymore. I have exited that “special place” in your heart, and it’s being rented out by another tenant. You aren’t mine to keep anymore, and I don’t like it. I don’t like not having you like you had me.
So I guess this is it. You have less than 45 days before you start living 7 hours away. I’m not ready for you to go. I kind of wish you would stay. Because once you leave, you’ll forget me. I know you will. But this is it. Deep down. I still love you. No matter what I say, or what I do, I love you. You were my first everything. End of story.