My dearest, darlingest D;
I am sorry, because I love you.
It has been three months and 20 days since you broke up with me. 1 month and 23 days of that time I spent over a thousand miles away at college, which is why you broke up with me. In all of that time, I still have not gone a single conscious hour without thinking of you, and wishing you hadn’t done what you did. It keeps me awake at night- I cannot sleep, knowing that you won’t be there when I reach out.
I do understand your reasons- long distance relationships a very tricky, especially for tactile people like you. In the long run, I’ll believe you that it may be good that we did separate, like you said, in case we found, at the end of four years, that we found things had changed and we had wasted our college lives. I do believe that you were wrong about the relationship being unfair to me, off at college, though- it was more unfair to you. You were- are- the only person I’ve ever cared for who has reciprocated my feelings at the same time; our little, loving conversations were a luxury to me. But you, I know, were more upset than I about our lack of contact, and, as schedules became busier and we didn’t adequately set up “us” time, you were the one who suffered more. I was really not good at being a girlfriend. I was too afraid of looing you or bothering you, so I kept myself back when I wanted to reach out, and I’ve paid the price for it.
I believe your reasons despite what my friends say (as much as I wish you would have talked to me about things long before we separated). You are just the kind of honest, wonderful, and, most annoyingly, noble person who would want to keep me from hurting later by hurting yourself now. And I know it hurt you, maybe even as much as it still hurts me, to do that. That brings me to the second thing I am sorry for: I didn’t help you afterwards. You were so good, in making sure that there were people around me to help me and console me, but I was so wrapped up in trying to pick up the pieces of the existence I had built around you that I didn’t even stop to think who there would be to console you. Not only was I a bad girlfriend, I was not a very good friend, too busy leaning on you and other people to wonder who there was for you to lean on. This break was truly my fault.
I’m not sure if any of this is easier or harder because I know that you still love me too. Because of this, I am very careful of how I act around you: I know a lot about how to use body language to attract people, and I find myself unconsciously slipping bits into how I act whenever I’m around you. I suppress them as much as I can, since I know this is hard for you as it is for me, but it is difficult. I do love you, and I wish things could be how they were before. I am trying very hard not to overstep what is appropriate. Can an ex-girlfriend, who you said you wanted to remain good friends with, still call you? Text you? Start a Facebook chat conversation? I fear that any of these would be too forwards, to much of an invasion, though I am sorely tempted day in and day out. Please tell me what I may do- I’ve never done this before and I am so lost.
And now, today, you’ve gone off to a camp, and are a thousand miles away again. You won’t be home for six whole weeks, and I have no idea if I’ll be able to talk to you in the interim. Even worse, you will be only home for two weeks before college starts for both of us, and there are a thousand miles between us once more. It is only now that I realize just how much I need you- not necessarily romantically, though that will always be something I feel, very carefully suppressed just beneath the surface. I need a good friend who I can trust and talk to; who will rescue me when I get stuck in stupid places, like trees and roofs; who can understand me when I’m upset and share songs and funny videos online. When I lost you, I lost more than just my dearest love: I lost a best friend.
How much is it appropriate to miss an ex? Because I miss you more now that I did the day you came to see me off to college at six in the morning, when I had to watch you drive away, knowing I wouldn’t see you for eight whole weeks. I miss you more because I know that when I see you again, you won’t be waiting to hold me again.
I have not moved on, and I do not plan on trying to, even though you would ask it of me so that I might not be sad anymore. Nothing at this point could do less to make me happy, because in all of my life, there is no one I want or have wanted as much as I want you. For now, I will hope that some day in the future, maybe, like you said, in four years when we are both living in the same area again- we can be close again, even if it’s not as close as we once were.
And, as much as I loathe the thought that you might be as pained as I am, I hope you feel the same.
I hope this is not to forward, but: