I wish we never met. I would have have been perfectly okay with that. To not have known and explored this deep passion left unreciprocated. I blame myself this time. I already knew but I still treaded on in your vast sea of indecision and baiting every time it was convenient for you.
I think of you every day. Every time a book or film picks my interest, every time the news reads politicians’ incompetence, every time clowns in the debating community reveal themselves as such.
I am itching to talk to you but I can’t. If I know any better, I will not. Not with the knowledge that I only serve as a temporary distraction when your boyfriend’s not around. Or when he’s just too elementary to talk to you about Camus or Gerwig’s work or Khaled Hosseini’s books.
It’s just…oh babe, I’m sorry I’m too selfish to wish you happiness right now. Please don’t expect me to be around anymore. I am only human. If you only know how you’ve shattered me to such little pieces. As a final act of self-preservation, I am finally committing myself to erasing you in my life. I don’t want to drive myself to another drinking problem again when I worked so hard to be out of the rabbit hole I was once in.
So I guess this is goodbye babe.