journal · letter

The End

My Dear,

I’m breaking up with my breakdown now. It’s time that I move on with life, whether or not you want to be a part of it. I can see now that your silence was not the bona fide killer, but the thoughts with which I filled it. So I’ll paint through the void with a new song, and keep moving right along. The answers to my questions no longer matter, because I’m taking back my self control. Embracing the future because I deserve to, accepting the fact that sometimes you don’t get answers, whether or not they are needed.

I made a mistake and I have lived contrition. There is nothing more that I can do. I am a good person who made a poor decision. I can understand if you can’t forgive me, but I won’t let it make feel like I am a bad person anymore. It can’t be said that I didn’t try my best either, although countless hours of conversations, of time spent together, of profound moments and soul baring intimacy should speak for themselves. My eyes suddenly opened upon the realization that the fact that they do not to you speaks volumes. If you cannot see that I have done so, if you cannot see that I am worth it, then I cannot and will no longer attempt to make you see it. And I will not spend the rest of my life in the interim, waiting and restless with unfulfilled longing; standing still and watching you pass me by as if this had all been a dream. I refuse to become a slave to my feelings for you, pining each past moment and regretting a future absent of your tenderness. So I move forward, that I may never have the feeling I want to erase you from my memory, that I might remember you with soft affection instead of bitter pain. That my love for you will not become a sickness for me, but remains the choice that I made on the morning I first softly whispered it to you.

I will allow myself to remember you as the man I fell in love with for this one last moment. Your movements, your voice, the sound of my name from your lips, your beautiful, fascinating mind, even your fake “I’m fine” smile. The moment has ended. I will wrap up my memories of you and tuck them safely away until such a time comes that I may look back on them safely. But I will not forget. I will keep you with me, a lover, a soulmate, a confidant, a lesson, a friend. So thank you. Thank you for being you, for helping me to grow and change, for letting me love you, for caring about me, and even for thinking the worst of me. There is something to take away from all of it, each good, bad, and mediocre moment. Try to remember me fondly from time to time, my dear. Remember a complex, complicated woman, with faults and assets alike, human and alive, tender and tough, tortured and hopeful, who was willing to be completely, entirely yours. But most importantly, most absolutely, remember that this woman loved and will always love you, for everything she knew you to be, everything that is yet to be discovered about you, and each detail in between. No person, thing, or action will ever change this truth. It was an oath and a promise, not a flight of fancy.

I am now going to go be the person that I’ve always wanted to be. The one that you helped set me free to be. And I realize that a part of me already was. I have always felt things deeply and loved completely, without shame or regret, fighting for my passions with ardent fervor. Trying to fight for what you love is always worth it. I am also filled with the final peace of one last comprehension at this time: forever still and has always existed. Sometimes, it simply changes its face. There will be no goodbye forthcoming. We may still have friendship left within us yet, at some point in the future. So I will end as I did when we began this fantastic mess. Catch you later, Mi Querido. Perhaps I’ll see you around.



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