Dear Boyfriend,

23

Dear stranger,

I read the letter.

"Dear Erin,

I remember the day I first met you.

I remember the day I left you.

And I remember everything in between.

I'm sorry.

Not because I want you back, but because I was so, so stupid.

I thought I was in love with you. That we were soulmates.

The truth is, I was in love with the thought of you.

You're a beautiful girl. I'm a good looking guy. We looked good together.

But was there anything more?

No, at least not for me.

And so I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for making you believe that it was real. That we were perfect, and that I had changed. That you had changed me.

You hadn't.

And maybe I'll never change. Maybe I'll be the same old self-loathing angry bastard forever. So I'm sorry for making you think that I wasn't.

Let's talk about Allan.

He's a good guy. And I hate it.

I want to be just like him, so I hate him. Much logic there, right?

The truth is, it wasn't about you. It was never about you.

It was about me wanting to be him.

Me wanting to have a genuine smile. Me wanting to have a cute charm. Me wanting to have the ability to make friends quickly.

It was about me.

I'm sorry.

Please don't every contact me again, It'll just make me feel worse.

Sincerely, Stranger."