It’s been a long time since I last called you mine, over 6 months. We haven’t spoken in just as long, unless you count the numerous drunk texts and phone calls on my part that always go unanswered. You avoid me in the halls now, and show clear discomfort whenever we accidentally make eye contact. You tell people you hate me, and I can feel that whenever we are in the same room. What happened to us? I can’t stand to think about you anymore. It brings this sinking feeling to my stomach, like I’ve been shot. I wish I could know what happened to us, if only to bring myself some peace of mind, some closure. But you will never give me the answers I need. You have a new girlfriend now, and I have come to terms with the fact that I will never again call you mine. I genuinely want you to be happy, I just wish it was with me. You will likely never see this letter, and if you do you would never know I wrote it. But if by chance you do, just know that you brought me so much happiness in the time we were together, and I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.