An Open Letter

Hey. I'm not sure if you will ever read this, but I feel like there's a chance. I know you would read this, and if you're affected by this as much as I am I think I wouldn't blame you.

It's crazy how many little coincidences lined up for us to start dating. I remember that I was doubtful if I was really able to love people, because I had gone on a few dates and I kept calling them off just because I didn't love them but that changed with you. I remember how much I thought about you. I remember how on our first date you scared me by slapping the car window, and how much I jumped and everything I had been thinking about went out. I remember feeling like wow, this is nice. I remember the first time we kissed, it was in my car across from your apartment. The few minutes it took for me to drive home, I was blushing the entire time afterwards. You tasted like cherry chapstick. I remember how much it felt like we clicked.

I remember the first few times things went bad. Sometimes there would be something I would mention that you said that kind of hurt me, and you would start escalating and it started to feel like I had to convince you that I was hurt. I never wanted it to be like that, but I never knew any way how to bring up things without it becoming a fight when I was the one hurting. I know that you never meant to hurt me those when you would raise your voice or escalate things, and that's just a byproduct of how you were raised – but it started to take a toll on me. I remember at the beginning thinking hey, at least with this big argument out of the way we don't need to do that anymore.

The problem is the arguments kept happening. Whenever I would do something wrong, it felt like I was able to give you that space and resolve it. But whenever you did something wrong, it always escalated and I just started to feel more and more alone, and less like you understood me and I could talk to you. I started realizing how it didn't feel like much changed from the first few dates, because however much we clicked, it didn't feel like you were understanding me more. I even would ask you to ask me things, or to to lay it out for you, but even then it would slip your mind and you wouldn't remember. Also when I would ask you certain things for my sake like not mentioning things that I was insecure about and have trauma about, it hurt all the more when you kept doing them. As time went on, I think tension and problems arose for both of us, and for me it felt like you had less and less space for me. You had told me how much you loved me, but the whole time I kept feeling more and more like I didn't matter because even the things I said went unheard.

I believe you that you loved me. But I also think that we weren't in circumstances where the relationship wouldn't take such a toll on me. It hurt me a lot to see you relapse several different ways after we broke up, and it breaks my heart to see the ways you are coping. The part of me that loves you wants to try to help and to tell you and to be there and guide you and hold your hand along the way. But also I know that it's just going to hurt me so much more. Once you go home, I would be left with the thoughts of all the things that I just had to suck up and keep quiet about around you. And it's not just regular problems, but it's the things that you would do or things between us that I just had to be quiet about, because otherwise you start yelling at me. The ultimatums whenever you would do something wrong would make me feel so unsafe speaking with you. It's hard to tell you that something you said minor hurt me when your response is you should just leave. I know you don't mean to do these things, but they still happen. Over time I felt my love for you go away with each thing I had to keep lodged in my throat. And now with the lying and leading me on afterwards, there's too many wounds.

A small part of me wishes that you didn't break the no contact. And that same part of me wishes that I didn't agree to reconnect in that way with you. There will be long lasting scars from the things that you did and the things that you said afterwards. I gave you so many chances, and that's not your fault that's mine. I know that you're struggling and have your vices, and I guess I didn't know that you would lie to me.

I want to be mad at you, and my friends want me to be mad at you, but instead I've spent a lot of time to try to understand why you did the things you did. And I'm no longer mad at you, I'm just hurting from being collateral. I really hope that somehow in your life you realize what is going on, and that you have the willpower to change that. I hope your circumstances in life get better, so that you don't feel like you are drowning in your problems. I hope that it becomes manageable to leave your vices. But I also hope that I don't hear from you for a while. That's the part that hurts me the most, but I think the love I have for you won't let me turn you away if you reach out again. And so all I can do is hope that you don't reach out for my sake. It hurts me like hell to say this, but I don't think that you are in a place to say things to me that won't just hurt me more, and I'm so sorry for that.

I really love you A. I genuinely hope the best for you, and I would want to help you with that if it didn't hurt me so much. And so this is goodbye. I'm glad that you were a part of my life.