Dear Kate,
Hello, Katherine I know this is late and I shouldn't have written back but your letters are killing me. They're making me feel things I should've never felt, and it hurts me to see how me leaving have caused you so much pain. It should stop, you should let me go.
I am not the same Isabel you fell in love with, I changed a lot over the years you will never even recognize me. I know you think you're still in love with the 19-year old Isabel, but those were just your memories making fun of how lonely you are that you're forgetting to actually live your reality. Our reality. Us being apart, we took different roads now.
This is not love, Kate. You're thinking that what we had was the realest kind of love you could ever feel, why? Because that was the most painful? That that's where you keep coming back to? That it was the hardest one to let go, but no. We were just each other's bridges to get to where we're actually going but stronger because loving someone was not supposed to hurt you this long.
All these years, Kate? All these years, love was not meant for you to cry the night out, it wasn't supposed to leave you behind, as if loving was supposed to make you go through the painful process of unloving yourself, no. Love is supposed to make you feel a little more hopeful each day, as if what you are doing is worth the headache of writing those letters, worth the sleepless nights when you just want to dose off. Worth fighting this battle alone, and that's just not what I'm worth now, Kate.
I am getting tired of reading your letters and then blame myself after for things we should've moved on long ago, I am not coming back. You need to understand that. I loved you that's why I wrote this, but I'm begging you. Cross the bridge now, Kate. A better you is waiting there all along and maybe... Maybe you could still write letters. This time to her, the one you should actually love the most.
Sincerely, Isabel
