a letter

dear sarah,

i am writing this so i can get rid of you. i am writing this so i can stop hurting when i think about you and our past. i am writing this so i can eventually learn to love again.
you have destroyed me inside. i don't think it was your intention, and it certainly wasn't mine. but i've changed since i was with you and i can't say yet if it's going to make me a better person in the long run or not.
i used to be someone who was filled with light and trust for other human beings. i used to be open and whole and happy and accept people into my life and accept them leaving. i used to love my sexuality, being proud of it, exploring it, being happy with it. i was full of hope and optimism and now i am not.
now i wonder so often 'what is the point?' why would i ever want to find someone else to love if it's just going to end the way we did? if i have to trade a few scant hours of bliss for months of misery, what is the point of even trying? might as well be numb, it's better then feeling like shit consistently. it's better than giving people the chance to get inside you and tear you apart.
now, i cling to my sexuality like it is the only defining thing about me. because maybe if i can be the opposite of you, if i can embody gay pride and openness, maybe something like this will never happen to me again.
i know that i did my very best with you. but i also know that i failed. i put everything i could and knew of into our relationship; there were many times when i put you and us ahead of my friends, ahead of other aspects of my life. i was willing to go to the ends of the earth for you, to do anything to work through our problems and you were not. you gave up without hardly trying, and you showed me that your insecurities were more important to you than i was. instead of letting you help me, you pushed me away, again and again.
i will never stop thinking that you ended everything out of convenience. it was too convenient. it was the easy way out. if i was gone, you didn't have to worry about telling your mom about us. if i was gone, you didn't have to worry about the rest of the world finding out about us. if i was gone, you didn't have to worry about me pressuring you anymore.
you said you were letting me go because you could never make me happy. and that was true. but it makes me angry that that is the way you put it. because maybe i'll be happy without you, but it doesn't make you the better person. you also got rid of me because i was bringing out parts of you you didn't want the world to see. you also got rid of me because i was no longer convenient for you.
remember when i said i'd never make a promise i couldn't keep? i never promised i wouldn't leave you, even when you pulled that guilt shit on me. but i didn't leave. you did. and look what it's done to me.
i think the worst part of all of this is that you are still a liar. and only now have my eyes been opened to your lies. you told me you wanted to come out, you wanted to tell people (eventually). and then you went back on yourself, and you told me you never wanted anyone to know. so you lied to me then. what else did you lie to me about? what else did you not tell me just to keep me happy? what else was an exaggeration, was a lie behind a smile? how can i believe anything you ever said when i see how you lie to the world every day? how can i think that i'm special enough to merit truth from you?
i will be the first one to say that i always care too much, always fall too hard.
it ripped me apart though, when i gave you everything and you couldn't give me anything anymore.
you couldn't care like i cared.
and the thing is, all i ever wanted for you was pride in who you are. was love for who you are. i wanted you to love yourself like i loved you, but you couldn't, and you turned your resentment at your sexuality, and at the world, on me. i know that i failed you. i wanted to help you, and i wanted to fix you, and i know now that all i did was push you further into your little shell. and that makes me sadder then i will ever let anyone know.
and i wanted to be your friend. i really, really did. but i can't. because seeing you still grabs me in a weird way. i try to look at you like i used to, before i met you, as a stranger, but i can't. i'd like to go back to the girl i was in september, but i'm not her anymore. she was independent and strong, but she was lonely, and you made her whole.
and then you left her.
so i can't be your friend. because when i try to be nice to you, all i can do is love you. hating you, at least, pretending you don't exist, relieves me momentarily from loving you.
and sure i feel pathetic and stupid because holy fuck it's been two months already and i'm still sitting here feeling lonely and hopeless. and i don't know what you're doing, but i've heard that your sad.
and i'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with me.

so i've taken up enough of your time now.
that's all.

good luck with everything.
you're a better person than you'll ever know, and i'm lucky to have known you, really known you (i think), at least for a little bit.