Let me start this by addressing the question that is on the minds of those who care about me, those who saw me lose myself because of you: No, I don’t hate you.
I could never hate you. I’m not the kind of girl to throw around words of malice after a bad ending. I hope you know that. I have never been that kind of girl to anyone else, so God knows I couldn’t start with you. I would never do that to you, and I can only hope that you would think the same of me.
The idea that I can’t fathom hating you may cause my friends and family to be in an uproar. They saw me at my worst, and they watched as I continuously picked myself up and carried on after we left each other’s lives, again and again. At some point, we had to stop it. I had to stop it.
But you beat me to it this time.
As I write this, I’m right in the middle of picking myself back up. I spent weeks thinking about what happened. Reading old texts. Missing you terribly. Honestly, I’m still trying to get back up. I’ll get there. Eventually, I will be up without running the risk of ever being down because of you again.
I’m not writing this letter to discredit you. I’m not writing this to tell everyone how terrible you were. I’m writing this to say that I forgive you. I’m writing this to say that I accept the apology that I never got.
I forgive you.
Thank you for being there for me through the good in my life, and thank you for being there during the bad. I’m so thankful for you. I think, in the mess of fights and frustration, I forgot to say that. I should have stopped mid-argument on occasion and told you that you were the best thing that had ever happened to me. Now that weeks have passed and the smoke has cleared, I wish I had.
Thank you for celebrating with me when I was published for the first time. I was so excited. Telling you was the first thing I did after I found out.
Thank you for keeping me calm. You always knew that I sweat the small stuff, and you kept me sane every time I thought I couldn’t handle things. Remember my first job interview and how I was beyond stressed? Remember that time that you ended up in the hospital and I was more worried than you could ever begin to be? You kept me calm. In fact, on some occasions, I felt a little silly. You told me there was no need to worry, that you were good, and yet I still went out and made you a care package for when you came home from the ER the next day.
“I’ll be here for you as long as my eyes can see and my ears can hear,” you said. Thank you for that. At the time of us, at the highpoint of my happiness with you, that was exactly what I needed to hear. I still think about that promise. Sometimes I wonder what happened to it.
Thank you for the late night conversations. Thank you for the tight hugs and the forehead kisses and the times that you made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt.
Thank you for the inside jokes. Thank you for teaching me how to let someone down easy and not be mean, the way in which we began. I still think about the things you told me, and it helps me not be so harsh.
Thank you for allowing me to care without reservations for the first time. I had no fears with you. I was ready to give you everything, and to feel that way for the first time in my life was extremely liberating.
Thank you for allowing me to have my heart on my sleeve, Anything you wanted, it was yours. It still is, if you wanted it. If you came back right now, with the words “I’m sorry” on your lips and enough sincerity to tug at my heartstrings, I’d let you in.
Thank you for giving me the best of both worlds for awhile. I cared about you more than I had ever cared about anyone, and yet you were like my best friend. It was bliss.
Thank you for telling me, “You’ll never lose me.” Now that I have actually lost you, I’m realizing that not everyone means everything that they say. But that’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I don’t think I ever could be.
It’s a lesson I had to learn.