Or I guess I shouldn’t call you that anymore. You’re just Javier now. I still am not used to that. Almost a year later, I’m still not over our break up. Maybe because you surprised me by saying you’d never loved me, or especially because I don’t want to believe that. Two 2 year relationships, but you never “loved me romantically?” I still have trouble believing that. Everyone I explain our breakup to says that’s impossible. I don’t doubt you cared for me. I wish you had just said you’d fallen out of love with me. Falling out hurts less than never.
I’m not sure what I’m wanting to say. I guess my main problem is that I’m still not over you. You were my first love. And sometimes I feel like you were meant to be my only love. I know I have rose colored glasses now that we’re over, but I honestly loved you and your presence in my life always brought me joy. I know you’ve moved on and I know you’ll bring happiness to the next woman in your life. I still feel a bit jealous of whoever she may be, wondering what she has that I don’t. I try not to think about it, but it slips into my mind more than I’d like to admit.
I guess I need to find a way to forget about our past. I haven’t been the same since our breakup and, even if you wanted to be together again, it would never be the same. I lost the person I loved long ago. You’re completely different now. And I’ve changed too. The ever positive and smiling girl you dated is gone, leaving a depressed woman that is pulling away from even her closest friends. I know how I feel isn’t solely because of you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for the broken person I’ve become. I’ve always felt alone, but this past year has been the hardest I’ve faced.
I still think of you. I still glance at my phone, expecting a text that isn’t there. I still have everything you gave me packed away in a box in my closest because I can’t face those memories. I can’t see simple daily things, without thinking of you. I see couples around town, as I think of you. Everything is a reminder of you. It doesn’t help to be home this summer, surrounded by the memories of you and me. I escape it during the school year, but I hate that home is haunted by memories I can’t handle.
Part of me is hoping you’ll see this. But the other part is certain you won’t. You alway keep busy with things that inspire you, while I seek out ways to express the feelings I never got to share. You left me crying my eyes out that night, but you didn’t see the pain that’s haunted me. I’m tired of feeling this way. Every time I attempt to let my feelings go, they simply come back. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being alone. And I’m tired if blaming you for my unhappiness. I was too dependent on you. I suppose it’s a lesson to pursue someone that compliments me, rather than completes me; I need to be complete on my own.