You so brash, and loud, and outspoken. You who I know so well and care for so much. I know I can’t say this to you any other way. Why would you want to listen to me now, after all? But if I don’t, I feel I might strangle myself with these words. They’ve been caught in my throat for so long that I’m starting to suffocate on them. You don’t have to read or listen, but I’ll write them down anyway. I’m a selfish, cruel, cold hearted person. I tried to tell you so many times, even though you’d never listen. I have no capacity to love properly. I wish, wish I did, so very much. I wanted to love you just as much as you loved me, and tried to for such a long time, but you have fallen so hard that nothing I could do could make me feel like I was doing you justice. I felt like a liar. I felt like I was pretending. So, now you won’t speak to me unless you’re looking somewhere else, you get up when I sit down, you won’t answer my texts, and you act so cold. Do I blame you? No. It hurts me to know that as hard as this feels for me, it’s just that much harder for you. As much as I can’t breath, I know that you can’t even take a steady breath without choking. It hurts me to know that the things I gave you over our time must be painful to look at. I cry at the very thought of you reading things I wrote to you and feeling that they must be lies. They aren’t. They weren’t. They never will be. The one thing I refuse to be called is a liar. My feelings have changed, yes, but that doesn’t mean I never meant those things. I still care, no matter how much you don’t. I still think of things that I probably shouldn’t, like bringing an allergy pill for you because you’re allergic to cats. I can’t stop that. All I want, and I’m not asking for this now, is for us to one day be close enough that we both still care, but share separate paths. You’re ahead of me. Keep going. I have a separate destination to get to. Maybe I’ll meet you occasionally along the way. You deserve someone who will love you just as deeply as you love her. I hope I get to meet her one day. Even in my head she sounds amazing. There. I said it. It’s not like you could hate me much more at this point, so I don’t regret it. Once again, it was more for my selfish reasons than anything. I’m sorry for that.