This Is Why I’m Letting You Go

I can’t stop, right here, right now. But slowly, from this moment forward, I will let go of you. For months after our last conversation, I have told myself that I was getting over you. I have lied to myself all of this time, saying that slowly but surely I was making headway, that you’d be out of my mind in no time, all the while knowing that was false.

I can’t unwind my life from yours. I can’t ignore the fact that we grew up in the same town, that we are rooted in the same place. I definitely can’t ignore when Facebook constantly suggests that we be friends. Your life and mine will always overlap in some way. But that fact is no longer going to affect me. Hearing your name, driving by your house, none of these things will affect me, at least not to the point of disaster.

You were a part of my life. You, for a time, were my life. But now our lives are separate entities, which will never again consumer each other. And for this reason, I must let go of you.

I’m letting go of the idea of you that I have been holding onto so dearly, the perfect person which I remember you to be. No one is perfect, so why should I remember you that way? I won’t forget the memories, or the high that you made me so frequently feel, but I will forget this notion that you are an unattainable being of perfection. I can’t forget the way your hair smells, the way your chest felt under my head, or the sound of you clearing your throat every five fucking seconds, but I can leave them behind. You deserve to be let go of.

I’m also letting go of me. I’m letting go the person I was, and the resent I have for myself, for that person. No, I was not perfect either. I fucked up. A lot. But if all of this has taught me anything, it’s that nothing stays the same. The person I was then is not the person I am now, and is not the person I will be in the future. I deserve to be let go of. I deserve to let go of my mistakes, to move out of this purgatory of self-loathing. I deserve redemption.

So today, I’m letting you go. There will be more tears, more sad songs on repeat, more pints of Ben and Jerry’s. But for now, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.