You couldn’t handle the world, and I was a universe.
You left. I understand. I know you did it because you’re tired.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to fight for myself. I’m sorry that you were the only one fighting for us – fighting for me. I understand.
I’m not an easy person to love. I’m even harder to keep. I isolate myself. I do not say a word. I shut people out. I shut you out. I’m sorry. I was fond of ghosting because that was the only thing that I could do to help myself because I was at war. I am at war. At war with myself and the only defence that I know is to isolate myself. I’m sorry I forgot that I wasn’t the only one in the battleground. You were there, trying to fight my fight. But it is my battle and it is my fight and I’m sorry there wasn’t anything that you could have done.
I’m sorry for all the times you felt so helpless that you couldn’t do anything to help me.
The truth was, I knew you couldn’t save me. Love couldn’t heal me. I knew that right from the start but you didn’t. I know you gave your all. I know you tried. You gave and gave, thinking that by giving me pieces of yourself, I could mend mine.
I’m sorry because I focused so much on my own pain that I forgot that you were suffering too. I’m sorry I forgot that you were already there, sharing my pain.
I sincerely apologize. Not even these words can show how truly sorry I am.
Thank you because you stayed longer than I expected you would. Thank you for giving me a sliver of hope. For showing me that life isn’t all that bad. Thank you for holding me even when my weight was pulling us both down. Thank you for trying. Thank you for giving me everything you had. Thank you for trying to understand. Thank you for the time you spent on me.
You were my tunnel. My peace in all the hustle and the chaos and I’m sorry that we didn’t work out.
It wasn’t because you were not enough, because damn it, you were more than enough. I was the one who couldn’t be enough. Or maybe, I was too much; too much for you and too much for myself.
I’m finally saying goodbye but not quite. Saying the words doesn’t always equate to meaning them. I miss you. I really, really do and I wish that you didn’t have to leave. I wish I didn’t tire you. I wish I was a different person. That way maybe we could have made it work. But things are not the way we wish for them to be. I’m still this person and you still left. Maybe some other time we could make this work. I hope we could.