September's Story

Dear,

I am writing this as I have never gotten some of these things off my chest.

I blocked my ex in the middle of us arguing and haven't spoken to him since. There are so many things I never got the chance to say and I'm afraid if I don't get them out in the open to some degree, they will never go away.

So here it goes.

A letter to him I am sure he will never see but I need to exist:

Dear,

I don't know what made me leave that night I came to your apartment. As soon as I got there, every part of me wanted to disappear. To be invisible because I couldn't stand you looking at me.

Me leaving that night is what truly ended us. What caused me to start drifting away. To not care about you anymore and to stop loving you.

All I have is questions.
All I want is closure.
And I know I'll never get it.
We both moved too far ahead in our lives to go back but I don't know how to ever be okay with our situation without it.

Why?

Why did you not break up with me when you met her?
Why did you not break up with me when you started having feelings for her?
Why did you not break up with me the first time you ever had sex with her? (Why was the thought of me not enough to stop you?)
Why did you continue to have sex with me?
Why did you not break up with me after a year of having her on the side? 2 years? 3?
Why did you not break up with me when she became more important to you than I was?
Why did you not break up with me when the sight of me seemed to infuriate and repulse you?
Why did you not break up with me and instead chose to continue your actions, even if it meant destroying me in the process?
Why did you go along with my ideas of the future, leading me to believe you wanted one with me?
Why did we go drive around and look at houses?
Why did we make a bank account together?
Why did you let me call places trying to figure out how to get a loan?

Why was hurting me so easy for you to do?

Why couldn't you just let me go?

Sometimes I wonder if I am still here, struggling to be okay even over a year later and you have moved on and forgotten me.
And the only thing that brings me some sort of closure is knowing that you couldn't.
With the tattoos etched on your skin that I designed.
With the bed sheets from your apartment that I slept on.
With the couch from your apartment that we had sex on.
With the neon green fishing poles my family and I bought for you.
With the rose gold speaker my friend bought as a Christmas gift for me and you stole.
With the clothing I got you that you still wear. And she wears.
With your Facebook photo still being a picture I took of you, in an outfit I got for you, at my dads golf course.

Pieces of me are still there, making me impossible to forget.
And as much as I wish I could forget you, our past continues to eat away at me.

8 years of my life I spent loving you, giving you everything I could.

And in the end it meant nothing.