An Open Letter to The One That Got Away

Dear Michael

It's been a year since we broke up. It was this month actually. Around two weeks after one of the most joyful nights of my life, you pulled the floor out from under my heart.
After our breakup, we were friends for awhile, until we realized that it couldn't work. So, we stopped talking to each other.
How's you and your girlfriend? I hope you guys are happy, honestly. I really haven't been all that great since you left. A part of me, small as it may be, misses you every single day. I tried to date after you, and it didn't work. So I turned to the thing I knew best. Sex. And it's been working for awhile. But, slowly nowadays, it's not working so much. I don't know what to do honestly. I know you don't miss me at all. I was a burden that you and your family are glad to be rid of. But you changed my life in ways I can't explain. I still remember you address by heart. I remember exactly how your room looks. The Link poster right above your bed. Your shelf of amiibos above your tv that you collect. You loved those.
I remember the specific shade of green your walls were. And your red sheets were my favorite. I even remember that when we first met, we were in my house and we watched Jamesy Boy on my house computer on Netflix. I remember your white laptop and that we would almost always order Chinese when I came over. Do you still love General Tso's chicken? Sometimes I'll order it and smile because of the memories. I remember when we ordered Chinese and then sat in your lobby, watching Scott Pilgrim because we were too lazy to go back upstairs.
I remember the way you asked me to date you. It was on December 1st, at the end of the downtown track on Gunhill Rd train station. I still listen to our song and it still makes me cry. But for all is this, I can't remember your face. I can't remember how tall you are. I don't remember your smile that I loved so much. My friends tell me these are good things. I don't know about that.
I honestly know that I'll be ok some time soon. But I don't know when that will be. I'm writing this open letter on a rainy day because those are the days when you cloud my mind the most. When I can't get rid of you. Time heals all wounds, but it's taking liberties with mine.
There are days where I feel like Wonder Woman. And then there are days where I lie in bed, crying. Begging for the pain in my heart to stop and for it to go away forever. I don't want to miss you anymore. I don't want to love you anymore. I wish I could take back the best parts of me, but I can't because you ripped them from my heart when you left me. At 3:05 am on a Tuesday in late June of 2016. And even though I can't stand what you did to me, I can't hate you. Even when you called me because you thought I gave you an STD, I couldn't hate you. Because a part of me clung to your voice, to every syllable that escaped your lips. Like an addict, your words had me begging for more. Like a high that crashes way too soon, you hung up. You were gone from me and I couldn't bring you back. So, now you exist in the diary of my mind. I relive our relationship through photos and imagination. And I so happily await the day when I can listen to our song and smile, instead breaking down and sobbing. Most days, I just pray that I'll find someone to love me that way again. But I'm so scared that I will. Because if they leave me too, I don't think I'd ever be able to come back from it. So I think that this letter has gone on long enough. I'll try my hardest to forgive and forget. Will I succeed? We'll see. I've already forgiven you. All I need now is to forget.
I wish you the best of luck Michael.
Love,
Cassandra.