A Fraction of Fiction

7.30.20

A letter while written in a moment of heartbreak.

Genre: Non-Fiction

Warnings: Ansty, my dude.

~{++}~

Dear, You.

"Fuck you" and "I miss you".

Two opposite statements that I all of me is dying to say to you.

But you've heard it all before. I've told you the pain I'm in. That could very well have been where I went wrong, me talking about my pain.

No, not "could", it was where I went wrong. I talked about it with you constantly.

People say communication is key, but there's also such a thing as overcommunication. Life needs balance.

I didn't have that with you.

I didn't know what balance was after I fell for you. I lost my balance because of you.

Part of me loves you for it, and I have a feeling that it always will.

I love you for bringing me out of whatever rut I was in. I love you for teaching me about my self-worth. I love you for giving me incredible memories and making me feel special. I love you for making me feel like a child.

But another part of me hates you for it.

You've heard all about this part.

You've heard a lot about both parts, actually.

But I think the hate stuck with you more.

That's why you're gone.

I made you go.

God, I miss you.

I miss you so much it hurts.

The love I felt for you be damned, I just miss being your friend. Your best friend.

I miss your stupid jokes.

I miss your stupid laugh.

I miss being the one to make you do that stupid laugh.

I miss your stupid hugs.

The same stupid hugs that made me feel safe and protected.

I miss your stupid smell. The smell that was distinctly unique to you.

I miss your family. I miss how your mom loved me and how your sister thought I was cool.

They probably all hate me now.

I miss them.

I miss watching movies with you and making fun of them.

I miss making you laugh because I jumped at every single scene during horror movies; even the scenes that didn't have an intentional jumpscare.

I miss knowing you inside and out. I miss being your confidant. I miss you being mine.

I miss you.

I miss the fear of losing you.

Because that fear was genuine.

I miss the feeling of complete joy I would have whenever you would say my name.

I miss ecstatically checking my phone whenever you texted.

God, I miss you.

And I can't say this to you.

Not anymore.

Not ever.

You can't know the depths of my sadness.

You're happy. You're well. You're okay.

Without me.

You're living without me.

You have friends that make you happy, you have great moments of joy without me.

I don't have very many of those.

It's hard without you.

Albeit, it wasn't what it was six months ago.

Six months ago, the pain was unbearable.

Heartbreak was hard. I didn't know how to handle it.

I didn't know how to handle any of it.

Not to mention, I kept getting fed false hope. Hope that you really did want me. People saying that you could just be scared.

I think that hope made it all the worse.

I'm fine now, I guess, in regards to that.

I've come to accept that you don't want me.

I've come to accept that you're gone.

At least in terms of romance.

I don't know if I've fully accepted that you don't want to be my friend anymore.

I mean, I understand. I was a bitch.

I was the worst.

I made you feel like shit, all because I was hurting.

You made a mistake. A costly mistake. The mistake of kissing me was bittersweet.

It gave me such a great memory of such a great night.

A great memory that turned painful.

However, I got over the pain of that.

I don't know if I can ever get over the pain of not having you in my life, though.

I ruined it.

I ruined it all.

I'm so sorry.

I miss you.

God only knows how much.

I don't know why my being has such a hold on you, but it does. And I miss you.

I found some screenshots of some of our old conversations.

That's what brought on this bout of missing you.

It comes in waves, you see.

There are days where I'm doing quite well. And there are others when I'm not.

It ebbs and flows.

Writing this out helped. It helped me a lot.

I only wish you could read it and understand.

I wish you could take me back and give me a hug and say that you missed me just as much as I missed you.

I don't care if it's romantic or not, but... still, I miss you.

I can't even seem to get things right with my family.

I can't get anything right now.

I suppose I never could get anything right.

I've only become aware of it now.

Fuck it.

The moral of the story is that I miss you.

You'll never truly know how much, mon cherie.

But I do.

I really, really do.

From, me.

(p.s. I know later I will come to realize that I don't need you, that you're old news, that you are ancient history, but as of now the pain is there and real.

I hope you know how much you meant/mean to me. You don't deserve to know, and yet you do all the same.

Love is complicated.

Oh well.)