It’s taken me a very long time to get over everything that happened between the two of us.  I know I can’t say that I’m blameless in all of this, but I truly feel that you dealt the deadliest blow to our relationship.  It would have died anyway, I only put us out of our misery. 

I know that you don’t understand my reasons.  I know that you think I should be able to move on and not care.  You think it should be easy for me to just let it all go and forget, but you and I are two very different people.

The only way I was going to be able to move in any sort of direction was to cut you out completely.  I needed to have total space so I could put the pieces of myself back together again.  Having you in my life would’ve made it impossible for me to fill those breaks.  You were the reason for those cracks and pieces, how could I manage to fix anything with the cause of my pain still attached?

I gave you all of me.  At least, I gave you all of me that an eighteen-year-old is aware of.  I was willing to give you my sordid past, my dramatic present, and my uncertain future.  You could’ve been it for me.  I wanted you to be it for me.  I loved you, and I was even willing to look past the fact that you didn’t love me as much; that you weren’t willing to give me all of you.  I was naïve enough to think that I could love enough for the both of us; that maybe, just maybe, if I loved you hard enough you might just love me back.

I was wrong.

You were what was best for me at the time, and I’d like to think that I was that for you too.  I needed your less-than-sunny outlook on life and love to help me through a rough patch because I know that if you had been more optimistic about my problems you and I would have never gotten along.  You made it OK for me to be upset, and I needed that, too.  I like to think that you needed my love and unwavering devotion to lift your spirits, and you needed my problems to help you shift the focus from your own. 

I look back on the two summers we spent together and I can’t help but smile.  No one brought me out of my shell like you did.  I lived during those hot summer days and clear summer nights.  I felt something other than uncertainty and I thrived in it.  I found a piece of me that I didn’t know existed, and I don’t think I could’ve done that without you, in all your I-don’t-care-what-people-think-of-me glory.  You opened me up.

Having said all of this, I’ve moved on. 

I’ve never thought of myself as an “all or nothing” type of person, but with you, it’s different.  I wanted it to be possible for us to move on from being in a relationship to being friends, but I don’t think it is; for either of us. 

I know you like to think that you’re capable of moving on from our past, but you’re not.  At least, you’re not completely capable.  You still think of me as that someone you met in the produce section at the local grocery store.  You still see me as that broken soul who needed someone to cling to.  You still think that you know how I’m going to feel and in what way I’m going to react.  Maybe you’re right, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not.  I strongly believe that in your inability to love me as strongly as I loved you, you failed to become an expert on me.  You know who I was, you don’t know who I am.

I don’t know who you are either, and that bothers me.  I know who you were, I know who I fell in love with, and I know who I don’t want you to be.  This person you are now, the one I’ve caught glimpses of, is the person I don’t want you to be.  It sounds cruel, I know, but I would be doing you a disservice if I sugar coated it all.

I harbor no real resentment towards you or the choices that you’ve made.  I was mad at you for a time; hurt by you.  But time moves on, and I managed to do that too.  I could sit here and blame you for it all, sit here and berate you for blaming it all on me.  I don’t think that would get either of us very far.  What happened was tragic, sure, but it made us both stronger, better people.  I grew up because of you, and that is a very good thing.

You and I can’t be friends because I don’t want to be friends with you.  I’ve never know how to be friends with you, despite my vehement declarations that you were my best friend.  I wanted you to be my best friend, and we spent enough time together that it seemed true, and I spilled enough of my secrets to you to think that I told you “everything,” but it was all a fancy façade.  We were two teenagers that thought they knew what they wanted at the time. 

What I want has changed.

I want to discover me.  I want to figure out who I am now, not then.  I’ve overcome a lot from my past; I’ve battled many demons and won.  Now is my time to discover the person I am without that past or that baggage.  I want to decide who I’m going to be without the input of everyone that thinks they already know me.  I want to be an adult, for once, and I think I’m ready, too.

It’s probably unfair of me to end any chances of us being friends without consulting you, but I don’t really think you would understand my reasons and let me go without throwing insults and blame around. 

You think it’s simple; black and white.  If there is anything you should’ve learned about me (that still holds true) is that I’m anything but simple.  I know that I can’t appreciate you for the person you’ve become, and I’m fairly certain that you can’t appreciate me, either.  I think that’s one thing about the two of us that I know, but I could be wrong.

I know that no matter what I say to you, there are not enough eloquent words in the world to make it sound OK.  You’re going to be upset regardless.  I’m OK with that, funnily enough. 

Brace yourself, this is going to sound harsh.  I don’t care what you think about me anymore. 

Your opinion really doesn’t matter, and I think that’s because your opinion of me is based upon what you think is best for you.  I think we’re both fairly selfish people, to a certain extent.  I wanted you to be something you weren’t, and you want me to be something I’m not. That really is that simple.

I will never say never, because that’s what everyone always says.  I really don’t know what the future holds for me, but I know that my present doesn’t have room for you.  (I say that with all the love I can muster).  You have a life, one that works just fine without me.  I have a life that exists outside of you.  You’ve managed to move on and create a life that makes you happy.  Let me do the same.

I would like to think that this explanation would be enough for you and you’ll let me go without any parting shots or blame, but I don’t think that would happen.

I don’t know what else to tell you other than what I’ve already said (more than once).  I don’t know how many ways to say that I don’t want to be friends with you right now.  I don’t hate you, far from it, actually.  I don’t care either way what happens between us, but I’m not going to put in any effort to make something work.

I’ve just spent the past few hours writing out this letter in hopes that you’ll understand my perspective of everything that happened.  I just want you to know why I had to let you go, and I want you to know that it was the hardest thing I have ever done.

I loved you.  So totally and completely, I loved you.  I don’t think you can grasp the depth with which I adored you, but I suppose that doesn’t really matter anymore.  You’ve found someone else to love.  And now I’m discovering how to love myself.

I spent hours sitting across from a man that’s listened to my sordid tales and tried to help me explain the thoughts that have been running through my head.  I’ve been seeing this counselor since I let you go, and I have to say that I’ve made so much progress.

If you and I were still friends, you’d be proud of me.

I’ve managed to focus on my schooling and I’m doing damn good in all of my classes.  There’s a chance I may get to graduate early, too. 

I’ve made it a point to re-build the bridges I’ve charred with some of my other friends, and I feel that I’m finally finding a place to belong.  I’ve taken a lot of time to work on the little girl inside of me that needed healing, and I can finally say that I’m OK.  I’m not completely better but I’m OK.

Because we have mutual friends, I’ve kept tabs on you.  You might think that because I walked away that I don’t care, but that’s the farthest thing from the truth.  I left for you.  Staying would’ve been the most selfish thing I could’ve done.  I left so you could live the life you wanted and love the way you wanted without having me get in the way.  As much as I like to think I’m mature and grown up, I also know I’m a jealous person and I wouldn’t have been able to handle being around you and someone else. 

I like to believe that you and I happened when we were supposed to happen.  I like to think that you came into my life when I needed you the most, and you gave me enough strength to let me know that I’m capable of saving myself.  As hurtful as the final push to freedom was, I don’t think I would be who/where I am without having known you.

I know that you think I hate you.  You think that because I pushed you away and took you out of my life that I can’t stand to be around you.  But that’s not true.

I think you are the most amazing person I have ever met.  You are so caring and loving and genuine.  You’re genuine.  You wear your heart on your sleeve (even though you manage to cover it up most of the time) and you would do just about anything for those that you love. 

I have never met anyone with as much passion as you possess.  It’s almost blinding sometimes, the way it radiates off of your being.  Being around you, people can’t help but feel happy and alive.  You bring that out in people.

I have also never met a person that is as critical about themselves as you.  You were always coming down on yourself and thinking that you weren’t good enough.  I hope you listened when I told you that you were.  I hope if you take anything away from our relationship it was the fact that you are an astounding person and you have the ability to touch people in ways that others can only dream of.

You touched my life and I’m a better person for it.  But now…now it’s time for me to let go and move on.

I’m trying to figure out a way to end this letter, but there probably isn’t any really good way to do it….so…

Goodbye.