You began the phone call with “after this phone call, do not call or text me ever again…I will not respond.”
In that moment, I knew we were over forever. Everyone warned me of this moment, and deep down, I knew it was coming too. I spent the past six months living off a sliver of hope for “us”, perpetuated by intimacy and conversations whose true roots were indiscernible and complicated, to say in the least.
I knew this was coming…
My breathing and heartbeats slowed to a pace that I wasn’t sure how would keep me alive and then it hit me…you were about to break my heart.
“I do not want you, there is no us. You need to move on”
Each sentence broke me and I all I could ask was “is this real”; which was accompanied with your affirming and stern yes. I was paralyzed, and couldn’t even fight because I knew I would lose, but all I wanted to know was “what am I supposed to do without you?”
Days later, the shock has worn off, and now I can say everything that I wanted to tell you when you broke my heart.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being difficult. I’m sorry that our time together was mostly spent emotional roller coaster when all you wanted and needed was stability.
I’m sorry I stabbed you with the venom of my words when I was mad, when all I should have done was uplift you, and us. I’m sorry I broke your trust, I’m sorry that things turned out this way… But I’m most sorry that you broke me.
Thank you for showing me that I can find love in the least expecting people and places. Thank you for unlocking parts of my heart that I didn’t know I would be able to feel. Thank you for pushing me, thank you for allowing me to share my secrets with you, and some of yours with me.
It kills me that you have no hope for a friendship or a future. It kills me that I must relinquish the fact that we will never speak again. It kills me that I am looking at the pieces of my heart on the floor while you are living your life.
I accept my fault, and I hope that you accept yours, and I hope that nobody breaks your heart the way that you broke mine.