So I know that I’m the last person you want to hear from. I know that you’ve moved on with your life and found happiness, however brief. I know that I hurt you more than words can explain. Yet here I am, reaching my hand out to you again. However, this will be the last time. It’s true what they say, time does heal all wounds. Every passing day I forget more of our time together. I’m forgetting your face, your smile, the sound of your voice. I’m forgetting the hole that was in my heart after I left you. I’m forgetting the terrible things that I said to you. I’m forgetting how much I loved you, how much I still love you.
I know that you don’t believe me anymore, and why would you. I’ve told you so many different stories and reasons that I can’t even keep track of them anymore. I’ve told you I did what I did because I was scared. Because I couldn’t watch you slowly wither away to nothing. I told you that I felt tempted by the allure of other women. I’ve told you so many things to try to justify what I did, because I thought maybe it would make me feel better. It didn’t, obviously. And every time I reached out to you, I just ripped that wound back open. I truly am sorry for that. I want to say that I never meant to hurt you, that I cared for you will all my being, but I can’t say that. It’s obvious that, based on my actions, that these idioms are nothing but whimsical fallacies. They’re lies I tell myself to avoid confronting what I did to you. They’re lies I tell you to make it seems like I wasn’t being selfish and conceited.
I know that you’ve moved on, found new lovers, and bettered your life. I say it from the bottom of my heart that I am so happy that you did. You didn’t take the same path that I did. You rose from the ashes while I sunk into them. Granted that I was the one who burned everything to the ground, but the sentiment stays the same. The reason that I’m writing this to you today, is that I finally think it is time for me to move on. It’s been over 8 years since I left you, and I haven’t moved an inch from where I was. Not until recently did I even attempt to make any progress with my life. Now, I’m a new person. I wouldn’t say that I’m a better person. I wouldn’t say that if I could go back in time I would change the desicion I made back then. I want to say I would, but I can’t because I wouldn’t.
With each passing moment, I forget more of you. More of our time together, until ultimately I will only remember your name, and that we were intertwined for a brief moment in my life. However, I am also forgetting more of who I was, for good or for bad, I’m moving forwards. I write this to you now in the hopes that you will never see it. That you will never think about me again. That you will live your life and be happy in spite of me. If by chance you do find this, and it strikes a chord, I’m sorry. Just know that it will be the last you ever hear from me. Not in the sense that I’m going anywhere, but that, for the first time, I will be moving on past what was or what could have been. I will always love you in some shape or form, and just know that I’m greatful for our time together. I’m greatful for the responses you’ve sent me through the years. I’m greatful that I got to see you achieve freedom. But with this, I am closing the chapter of my life that has gone on for far too long. In the hopes of a better future. For me. For you. But not for us.
With love, E.