An Open Letter To The Love Of My Life Who Ended Up Breaking My Heart 

When I met you, I knew. I knew in some way, shape, or form, you would hold incredible significance to my life. I knew you were going to be a constant. I knew you would change me.

And for the next few years, you were my best friend. Yes, we had our disagreements, but we always made our way back to each other. I always felt you in my heart, there was nothing you could do to make me that upset for long. I already needed you.

Then, as I had suspected for years, our relationship changed. We became lovers more than friends. And I knew, the second I held you close to me, I knew, just like I had known all those years before, that this was it for me. You were it. All I wanted, and all I would ever need.

You have issues, my love. Internal struggles with yourself, external issues with your family and others around you ­ and it weighs you down. I never have held that against you. But the struggles you faced made it impossible for you to love me the way you wanted to, the way I needed you to. Still, for a year I held on, praying you would stay with me, praying you would get better. Through all the fights, the petty disagreements, and the abuse, I stayed. Why?

I loved you blindly of course. I loved you without restrictions, and without caution. I loved you wildly. In my head, I knew you could be better. I wanted to see that happen for you. I wanted to help you get to where you should be. I believed in you. I loved you so deeply, I would have, and did do, anything on Earth for you.

My expectations and whatever other struggles you faced were too much for you, and the pressure you put on yourself suffocated you. Your eyes began to wander. You wanted something easier, someone who wouldn’t push you to be better, you couldn’t handle the intensity of our love.

You found what you were looking for, long before you actually ended it with me, which still hurts me more than you could ever know. I can’t believe my best friend, the love of my life, could do that to me. But that’s life sometimes.

Fast forward a few months from the day you told me someone else had more to offer, or at least, an easier pill for you to swallow: you tell everyone that you’re happy. You’ve come in and out of my life so frequently, breaking bits and pieces of me more and more every time. You tell me you’re happy, and I know it’s a lie.

I gave you time to come back to me, I gave you space and I offered you my loving arms to return to. It wasn’t something you would consider, you were too busy doing fun, easy things, with someone who didn’t deserve the person you used to be.

As I watched it happen, I felt pieces of myself, my soul, disintegrate and disappear. I grew colder, I put a wall up around myself. Letting myself feel soft for you only hurt me worse. Now, you are upset that I refuse to be there for you like I used to be.

When you come back to me asking for reassurance, but not asking to come back, I am forced to give a cold shoulder.

If I don’t, you won’t let me be, and I can’t heal. I can tell through your words and your actions that you are heartbroken. You tell me you are hurt because I don’t care anymore. But the truth is, you are not who I once loved. That person is gone. That person took some of the deepest parts of myself with them. I will always love them.

Had you tried for me, love, had you tried for you, we would have been in love forever. But you didn’t, and sitting around waiting for you only made things harder on me. I’ve accepted the fact that the you I once knew is gone.

I didn’t want to move on from you. I hoped in the deepest cell of my heart that you would come back and sweep me up and make things better. But eventually, I chose to move on. I chose to heal myself. I chose to fix what you shattered. It didn’t com easily, and nearly everyday is a struggle… but I have to. Please don’t hold that against me, as I have not held your demons against you. I needed to do it for me.

You are the love of my life, but you are long gone now.