Letters to her, us and our abstract love

Letter #6 (In this one I'm sobbing)

I used to believe I couldn't be heartbroken.
But I'm. You broke me.

And it wasn't even your intention to hurt me. It was all on me. I can't blame you because you made my same mistakes. We both went away. We both did not care enough. Neither of us fought enough.

So, here I am crying over a Sam Smith song that talks about how one has to leave in order to be happy. How one has to be selfish and choose oneself.

The big difference, I think, is that I don't want to leave. I have no history with you and my pathetic little heart keeps wondering if having something is what I need to be over you. If all I need is a kiss to let you go. Like the last breath of a brain-dead person right before they are unplugged.

Girl.

I love you.

My tears are screaming at you how much I love you. My breath shortens and I want to die because we'll never be together. I don't want to be with you if it means running and hiding and not giving my everything.

I don't want to be with you if you are not giving me your entire soul.

Yes.

I want it all, amor.

I wanted it all.

Now I understand you are not that kind of person. You don't give it all. And maybe you shouldn't.

So, I'm okay with being your friend.

But this is the last time I call you "amor", the last time I confess how Olivia Newton un Greese I am for you. This is the last time I scream I love you and I want you to make yours. The last time I show how I am nothing without you.

I guess, this is my way to get in the midnight train.

And I think I'll start forgetting you. Please don't come back. Not again. Even while miles away, you destroy my entire life. I don't want to think about what you would be capable of if you are near me. Don't do it.

Do me that little favor. I won't survive, amor.

Amor,
no creo sobrevivirte.