Dear you,

I’ve said things. A lot of things. Some of which I would take back if I could. All I can hope for is a good time with you. But I wish to take it slow. I could love you so hard, and I do, but I’m not sure what it is we’re doing exactly. Not sure if it’s right or wrong. But I’m willing to take each step one day at a time to find out. To see where we take ourselves.

I would like you to know why I chose you. I’m very emotional, obviously. I would cry all the time-sometimes there was a reason, sometimes there wasn’t. The crying stopped when I found you. I’ve felt the least depressed, the least sad I’ve ever felt in my entire life. You made me happy. You still do. You, as a person, were a single answer to most of my problems. I love you for that. I swear I always will.

I wanted the previous post to be my last letter to you, but I need to write out my feelings. And chances are you won't read these anyway, so why the hell not.

I thought I had forgiven you. Maybe I have, for the most part. But thinking about you still hurts. Seeing your name hurts. I want to erase you from my life, but I can't run away. I owe myself this much. 

I envy the way you can just decide not to care about something. How you could just change your mind about the way you felt about someone. Was I that bad? Did I fuck up so horribly to make you not even want to work things out? And for fuck's sake, the way you have me blaming myself yet again. I hate, however, that you had the nerve to tell me that I needed some self esteem. That may be true, but you made it worse for me. You broke me, more so. For someone who's supposed to 'love' and 'care' for me, I figured maybe you'd want to help me. No, that's not your job, but I would have done it for you. You've no idea how considerate I've been, how thoughtful I tried to be, how I hard I tried to make sure you knew you were loved. And if it was too much, all you had to do was tell me. But you didn't bother. And what's a girl gotta do to get a little appreciation around here? It's pretty shitty of me to expect things, I just thought I deserved a little better. I guess that's what ruined everything-I expected too much from you. I also gave too much, where as you didn't give enough.

I wish you never liked me. I wish you never told me anything you've ever told me-how you loved me and cared for me and wanted me, how you said you'd always be with me. I wish you didn't care enough to see me in the first place. I wouldn't be here wasting my time over something I thought to be true.

The storm is over, I think. But so are we. I’ve never felt more played than you made me feel, but I’ve also never forgiven someone so quickly. I do hope to stay friends; you’re still one of the coolest people I know. 

It does go to show how love can literally make you do stupid things. Not that I think being with you was stupid, but that before that, I promised that I would give myself a break from being involved with anyone. Honestly, you were too good to pass up. I remember thinking I was afraid of commitment prior to meeting you. Then actually being with you, it turn out to be you who didn’t want it and I only pushing it onto you. Which I’m terribly sorry for. Things could have gone a lot better, I think. We sort of rushed into everything that we ended up in over our heads. I do wish you would have just been honest with me and told me sooner. But I’m glad we could end on a rather less shitty note. Because this also could have went down a lot worse. 

You said you've never been with anyone before me... you sure know how to break someone's heart like you have. I suddenly mean nothing to you. It doesn't even phase you that we aren't together. After all we've talked about, after what we've been through. I give you the most thoughtful gifts I could think of for your birthday. For mine, I get this. I break up with you and I'm the one who gets crushed. It makes me think: where the fuck has my head been in this 'relationship'? Was I dreaming? Was I crazy to take everything you've told me to be true? I feel like a fucking joke. You say I have trust issues; well, this is why. 

"I love you. I need you here." Oop, just kidding, you really mean almost zero shits to me because you weren't as perfect as I thought you out to be. Yes, that's how it feels. I know I get a little crazy, all women are. But I feel like a fucking schizo for all this, just from your soulless, pitiful response.

I tried to end things with you today. I would have regretted it solely because it was based on impulse. I hate to point fingers, but my evil twin that happens to visit every month is to blame. She's so weak. Weaker than I. But she's also very strong. Coercive, even. She made me do it, I'm sorry. She makes me crazy, literally. She's conniving and manipulative, and mostly without a brain. I apologise for her behaviour.

Dunno when, or if, I'll let you read these...

Still missing you. We've spoken for approximately seven hours in a matter of a week. That's not nearly enough time to show you how much I love you and how I care. That's not enough time to relieve the frustration that builds every second we're apart. Not enough time listening to you be your loud self; singing, yelling at retarded League players, just trying to make me laugh. We may only have talked for so little as seven hours. But the thing is: I'm ok. By realising this, I've also noted how I still continue to learn from you. I've learned patience. I'm now learning independence, self-value, and how to be alone. We spent practically a whole month talking to each other literally 24/7. I did get used to it-and I loved every second of it-and I do miss it, but it's gotten me to a point of neediness that I hoped to never allow. Things slowed down very quickly, it seemed. A bit too quick, I might add-those withdrawals kicked my ass. Times like those, I'd see myself resenting you for not wanting me. But that's changed. I'm still very much in love with you, but I've realised-finally fucking realised-that I don't need you. I don't need anyone in particular to keep me occupied or entertained. This lesson took five years of trial-and-error and a hell of a lot of tears to learn. Alas, I'm o-fucking-kay.

You are my weakness.

How much more bipolar can these letters be? I'm sick of it. Currently, anyway. I wish I wasn't so into you. I wish I hadn't gotten so attached. It only leaves me hurt and lonely, and that's how I never want you to feel. The issue is that you never tell me anything. So much lack of communication, it then leads to miscommunication. Like, what is so hard about messaging me? You completely ditch me without saying anything. Who does that to someone they "love"? What's sad is that I can't even talk to you about this. I don't know what it is, but I cannot talk to you about my feelings. No matter how hard I try. 

Just wanted to say that despite the times I feel lonesome and blame you, I love you to bits. And I know you love me the same. I can't help where my thoughts take me when things don't seem perfect. But the thing is, everything is always perfect. When times are high, when times are low; this is what I want with you. I want you and all the sadness that comes with this relationship because this is only the beginning. We're so close to finally being together that all the hardships are worth it. And even though I get sad, I will always be happy with you. So as my last letter remains secret, so will this apology.

You're right; I am mad. I didn't want to be, but I am. Sometimes, I feel like you don't care. I feel like it wouldn't matter much to you if I were to end everything. You'll be fine. You'll get over me quickly. You never needed me. That's how I feel. I also feel like there's at least twenty other people you'd rather spend time with before you even thought of me. And the fucked up thing about that is I still feel selfish just for thinking it. What if there really are that many people above me? What if there are more? What if I mean so little to you that you easily forget about me in a crowd. In a crowd where hundreds of different faces just pile on top of me, forcing me onto my hands and knees; suffocating me. I'm gasping for air, reaching for your hand but you're turned the other way. Smiling, even. So oblivious to your surroundings. Only to what's in front of you, you pay any attention to. I'm screaming out your name, but I'm lifted and dragged off by the wave I call distance. I'm sorry we're far apart. It hurts me, and I feel like you have no clue. 

I'm in love.

It's been a little bit since I've written to you. Things have been going pretty well. There were times where I've been lost in love, but there were times where I also just felt lost. Just when I think you've forgotten me, you remind me that you haven't, and without me saying anything. I doubt you way too often, but I guess that's just my nature. For that, I'm sorry.

I love you when you're happy. I'll love you when you're angry. I love you when you hate yourself. I love you when I'm angry with you. But I think I love you most when you're asleep and I can hear your breathing. I've said this before, but I cannot express how it makes me feel after you've gone to bed and I lay here awake. Thinking of you, missing you, my heart is full just listening to the sounds you make. It might be what I look forward to most when we're finally together. Laying in your arms, having you next to me as we both drift off into slumber. I will feel the most secure, the most at home.