An Open Letter

Today I finished packing the trunks to shift down to San Diego to move out. Putting things in boxes and started to I solidify the feelings I've been hoping wouldn't really come. Yesterday T encouraged me to unfollow A on social media, because all it would do would hurt me more. Seeing a story, or even just waiting on a text or something like that to break the stability I have. I couldn't bring myself to block her, and so part of me is still going to be anxious waiting for a text come through and open the wound again.

I was packing away clothing that she got me, thing is that I have never worn and don't really match the clothes I would want to wear. But I still didn't even want to think about losing them. Same with the poster that she has hanging above my bed, that she made me for my birthday. There were so many bad things, and we really weren't compatible at the end of the day, so why does this hurt so much? I guess it's partially because there were also so many good things. The good times were good. But the bad times were really bad. I guess I see her as troubled, or at least that's my current view. A lot of the things that hurt me were things that I can attribute to something or other that at the end of the day isn't deliberate or her fault. But I guess this is a consequence of me believing that no one ever does anything bad, it's more them being a victim you love whatever made them do that in the first place. I wish there was some way for it to have gone different.

I wish that when I was hurting, both from something she would do or just overall, that she could have been with me rather than make me feel more alone. God, that's how I spent my last lecture. Let me go ahead and try to write that goodbye letter.