Letters to Edmund

LXXX

Dear Edmund:

My hands are trembling as I write this. I feel like someone is dying. That someone is probably me, goddammit.

I don't even remember exactly when and why I started writing this, in exactly this format in this exact site. But I do have a general idea. I started this after I fell for you, I started because if I haven't I would have imploded.

When I started this thing, I was sure it would go on forever, unrealistically. Of course.

I thought my feeling was infinite, that a fucking baby like me could feel anything close to love. I feel betrayed by myself, because I couldn't.

Now I can though, I'm sure of it. Because if this isn't love that I feel, then when I feel it I will die. Because this is too big of a feeling.

Now I understand why people die of heartache.

I still love you, of course, you are my friend, and an exceptionally beautiful person.

I'm just not.......in love. I'm not sure if I ever was.

When I love someone, for as long as I remember, I love intensely. I would do anything and everything for them. I love to take care of them and being taken care of. I develop some kind of radar, when it comes to them. And unless I'm betrayed (and it happens more often that may seem possible, I never learn Edmund) then I love them forever.

So I felt cheated, somehow. When I stopped loving you. In the romantic way at least. And the three and a half years I spent mooning over you didn't seem like enough.

You are important, and wonderful. And I wanted to keep loving you.

But it felt forced and fake and like nothing at all.

I felt dirty and wrong and like a horrible, cheating person.

Which makes no sense. But when have I ever made sense at all, Edmund?

I felt like now it was me who had betrayed you. By moving on so fast. My love for you and then some going to another one without time to do a single thing.

I felt it was necessary, to mourn my loss of you. To cry like a heartbroken girlfriend, when we weren't even anything to begin with.

So I guess I'm sorry, Edmund. And this is as much as an apology as it is a goodbye.