“That summer, we fought until we bled. The love we felt made everything worse. (It’s always worse when feelings are involved.) You couldn’t forgive me for the things I’d done, and I felt myself slowly degrading into an empty shell every time we spoke. This is why I ended things. Not because I stopped loving you. No, when I close my eyes, I still remember how it felt to kiss you. I still remember being in your arms. I still remember lying on your chest and kissing your face and holding your hand. I still remember going on walks - laughing at stupid things - making our own inside jokes. I’ll keep those references within me forever now. I’ll protect them with my heart. They were ours and now they are mine and yours separately. I want you to know that I miss you. Desperately. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I am bad for you. And because I am bad for you, you are also bad for me. I can’t stand to see you hurt. I can’t stand it at all. I can’t be the cause of all of that pain. It tears into everything that I am. So even though I miss you, I won’t say anything. And even though I know we won’t talk, I’ll still hope that you are well and, at the very back of my mind but at the front of my heart, I hope you find the kind of happiness that I couldn’t give you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much.”
— Sue Zhao
