Dear Beloved,
After all this stuff I’ve written and all these people I’ve talked to, and even though our final conversation was already a few months ago, I want to at last dedicate one letter to you, in which I tell you everything I never actually mentioned to you.
When we started being friends, I had only recovered from a very difficult time of my life, and I was feeling very harmonious and at peace. Still, I needed someone who could understand me now, as I had changed and learned so many things. You were the one I could articulate myself to. You were the one I could connect with. We were so similar in so many ways, we harmonized, and yet we were so different, such opposites, we balanced each other out. I felt so genuine around you, you were so true to me! I knew you could be difficult, but to me, you weren’t. I was understanding of you, and frankly I admired your considerateness, your strength and your knowledge. I felt deeply for you, but I didn’t want to ruin this. I was happy just being with you and around you, whatever that meant. We talked so much and so deeply, I adored talking to you. I had fallen in love with life, and I blamed it on you.
I really thought you were being genuine when you came closer to me, and honestly, that first time I was the happiest human being in the world. Surprised as I was, it felt so right. I loved you. I was cool with whatever, as long as it was with you. I’ll never forget these moments and those lovely months we spent being friends.
I think I loved you because I shouldn’t, because everyone told me how difficult your actual self was, because of how weird this whole thing would be. And I loved you, because I could see your truth. I hadn’t asked you to love me back, I was happy with the love I felt because of you.
But then things got out of hand… one big misconception and dishonesty… I wasn’t honest with myself anymore. I started getting depressive again, and this heart-break was just on top of that… I had never in my life felt so much a burning aching in my heart. I had never suffered so much. And there was only me to blame. I thought it was my fault.
I’m sorry, honey. I know we could have prevented all of this if only I had been true with myself, and with you. If only you had told me what you wanted. If only you had showed me who you really were. Sometimes I still hate you, because of our conversations, not because of what you did with me. I projected all of my hate onto you because you were the reason for all my heartache. I realize now that that wasn’t fair. But you know you didn’t act right.
When you told me you’re sorry, I did believe you. But it hurt that you didn’t actually care. Maybe that hurt the most. No sorry in the world could have made up for that.
But I learned so much because of this. And the biggest lesson, I think, was to be in emotional pain and experience actual suffering. Now I know.
I will forever cherish those lovely moments because they’re still part of me. I am forever grateful for what happened. It’s just that you have changed, and you have hurt me. I am no longer interested in the person you are. I can’t gain anything from touching you or talking to you. I’m glad it’s over, I’m glad you’re not in my life anymore. But the person you were, I loved him, and I still do, and I still adore this part of my life. Thank you for everything, and I do wish you well.
