(No, he doesn’t read this blog, he doesn’t even know of its existence. This is just a form of personal therapy, a way to get these thoughts out of my head and find some sort of closure, even if it’s only in my own mind.)
Hey. It’s me. You know, the one you claimed to love. The one you said you “could see yourself spending the rest of your life with.” The one you made plans with to move to California, to get 3 dogs with (yes, I still think “Bear Jew” is a stupid name for a dog). The one you asked “Can you just hang around for the next 50 years or so?” Yep. Me.
I wish I had known upfront that you were not the person you said you were. I wish I had known that all those things you said, all those plans you described, all the promises you made, were lies. When we first started dating, you told me so many things, things from your past, things that you weren’t proud of, and I never judged you for any of that. I never thought less of you. I still loved you unconditionally and accepted you , just as you were.
And I told you things I’d never told anyone else. You knew exactly how badly I’d been hurt in the past, and promised me you wouldn’t do that to me. But you did. Twice. You broke my heart, knowing exactly how badly it would hurt me, you did it anyway. The first time, I accepted your reasoning as logical, even if I still thought it was stupid. It made a sort of sense, and I knew you still loved me, we were still in each others’ lives. The second time…sigh…
The second time it was just plain selfish, childish, cowardice. Because you can’t deal with real life, with civilian life. Because you think only of yourself. Because growing up and having an adult relationship scares you. Because you refuse to get help, even when you know you need it. Because you freak out and have panic attacks when you realize that people you’ve known for years are now grown-ups and don’t want to party and drink all the time. Shocking, I know, how some people realize there are more important things in life than self-gratification. Imagine that…
I still care about you, very much, but I have found peace in my life now. I still think about you sometimes, memories still hit me out of nowhere sometimes and feel like a dagger to the heart, but I have peace. I’m so much stronger than I was before. But I’m harder as well, and you did that to me. Even with my trust issues and what I knew of you, I trusted you, and now it will be harder than ever for me to trust anyone again. I still don’t understand how you can claim to love someone and knowingly hurt them this badly. You’d been hurt like that before, so how could you do that to me?
We had an amazing relationship. We never fought. We didn’t always agree, but we balanced each other out, and we enjoyed being together so much. I never tried to change you. I never stopped you from doing what you wanted, from going out with your friends, from spending time with your family. The only things I ever asked of you were to be honest with me, and to be who you said you were.
Funny how those are the two things you just couldn’t do.
I heard through the grapevine that you thought about texting me, but didn’t, because you weren’t sure how I would respond. I’ve made my peace. I have forgiven you. I haven’t completely let go of all of the negative emotions, all of the hurt, the regret, the pain, but I’m trying. No, I haven’t made any effort to contact you, because you made it clear that you no longer wanted me in your life. I simply gave you what you wanted, and took myself out of your life. I don’t hate you. I still care about you. But I won’t put myself into someone’s life who doesn’t want me there. Unless you initiate it, you won’t hear from me.
I wish only the best for you. I hope that one day you realize who you are, that who you claim to be isn’t actually who you are. I hope your son stays who he is, and doesn’t learn certain things from you, that he doesn’t turn into the bitter, cynical person you are. Most of all, I hope that you find God, and that you realize that He is what you need to fill that hole inside of you, not drinking and partying and meaningless encounters.
I do still love you, but I need someone who is who they claim to be. A real, honest, trustworthy man, someone who is worthy of my love. Someone who won’t hurt me. Someone who doesn’t think only of himself. Someone like the person you claimed to be.
When I told you I was letting go, what I really meant was “good-bye.”