I was so happy to have you back in my life. From the day I met you, you were all I wanted my partner to be. You were handsome and funny, creative and kind, and a bit of an introvert.
Until you weren’t.
You have become, at least with me, someone who cares little of effort. You don’t make the time anymore … for anything related to me. Your friends get the best of you. Your work absorbs you. Your hobby feeds you.
You’ve grown unkind — I think purposely. I think you wanted to push me away. You didn’t know how to get me off your mind so you encouraged me to be out of your life. You treated me as if what I had to offer was worthless.
I used to want to be enough for you.
I wanted every bit of you so badly that I sank into the deepest of depressions waiting for you. I was immobile on days. Quivering and crying. Hoping you would do something as little as text me wishes for a good day. That would invigorate me, get me back on my feet, happily participating in the world.
That didn’t happen often enough.
I held on for a year, wishing for a date, more consistent messages, more time with you. Instead, I got anxious.
I know you aren’t who you’ve become with me. There is a light in you that I don’t have the power to turn on. I know that I at least tried, and I know that I’m tired.
What you’ve done to me has done something to me. I, too, have become someone else. Someone who has the strength to choose herself. Someone with love, who knows what effort is and makes it. The anxiety is still there, but it hits differently when it’s not matters of the heart.
I didn’t want this. I always wanted you, and I think I’ll always have love for you, but this time, I have love for me too.
You will be missed, as you have been.
I wish you a wonderful reunion with the you, you dream to be.
Please take care of yourself.