When It Hurts To Leave The One You Used To Love

Your tear-filled eyes ask me why, and all I can offer is a clichéd version of “it’s not you, it’s me,” knowing and hating the unoriginality of my own words. How do you explain a breakup outwardly prompted by nothing? No large argument, harsh words, wandering eyes or whispers of infidelity have led to this moment, and yet here it is all the same. The answer stares harshly back at me as I sit on your familiar bed sheets: you can’t. You were the perfect boyfriend, doting, caring, forever eager to lend a supportive hand, agree with my arguments, or send a cute text if I was feeling down. You never missed an opportunity to let people know I was yours, even when it was completely unnecessary. On paper our relationship was perfect, and I know you believed it was and would be forever. But reality has a funny way of ignoring expectations and for that I’m sorry.

I voiced my growing doubts twice before to you, three actually if you count that one drunk Tuesday night. You seemed surprised at my fears about the longevity of our relationship and rushed to reassure me that if my feelings had changed so suddenly (in your eyes) then they would most certainly change back. I knew better, but you ignored my protests and so I hesitated. I choose to postpone the inevitable for a few more stolen moments of happiness and for that I am sorry.

You stated we were happy, and it was just a natural growing point in the relationship, quoting some movie line never pausing to ask me if I was truly happy. You couldn’t see the widening gap between us as I prepared for the end, while you clung tighter believing everything to be peaceful bliss. To quote a country song (ironically one of the few things we disagreed upon–try as I might, I never could convince you that country music was something more than trucks, beer, and fishing), “Sometimes things change/ It ain’t nothing we ever said or ever did wrong/It’s just love done gone.” And it is, at least on my end. Maybe it was wrong to withhold the extent of my uncertainty, but I tried to alert you in the days leading up to this dreaded moment. I tried over and over again, and each time you ignored the signs of my disillusionment. Even now you say we can fix what is long broken, refusing to acknowledge what close friends have already noticed, and for that I am sorry.

The tears are falling now, coursing down our cheeks as I struggle to say I no longer see a future with you and that it is time to move on. I can see the hurt blossoming in your eyes, and it is agonizing to know I’m the one responsible. My reassurances that this is the fairest thing for both of us sound trite even to my ears, and I can only hope that in the future you realize the truth in my choked whispers. As our final words are spoken, I watch the last of your dreams for our future crumble into dust and for that I am sorry.

How do I explain that the passion has gone away? That your willingness to place me on a pedestal and turn a blind eye to my faults (I sincerely believe no one is perfect) is exhausting, unhealthy, and unsustainable? That I dislike the person I’ve become and feel hypocritical and manipulative for being unable to return your love with equal sincerity and generosity? It is no longer a fair, equal partnership, and I know I must release us before promises that cannot be honored are made. Our relationship has an end date, and that time is now. You are the perfect guy for someone, but that someone is not me, and for that I am sorry.

I hope someday you will look back on this moment and see how much it is hurting me to hurt you like this. I am sorry things have to end, but I hope too you remember the fun times we enjoyed when the love was still strong, our whispered conversations in the dark, the laughs we had at inside jokes only the two of us knew, the memories we created, and the experiences we shared. Know I will always hold you in my heart and will forever have your back. We had an amazing run babe, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I loved you. And for that I am not sorry. TC mark

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