Before anything, I want to say that I am sorry.
I’m sorry that I’m here and you’re there when we promised to always meet somewhere in the middle. I’m sorry that I’m not everything you wanted and you’re everything I always feared. I’m sorry that my past has put an end to our future before it even had the chance to begin.
I know that this has been a long time coming. You’ve been in my life for 11 years- some of them were better than others… Life constantly taking us in different directions than we ever could have planned. The last time you left, I had you written off and I was done.
But when you came back into my life, I was about to face a turning point I didn’t realise was coming my way. The past few years I had spread myself so very thin trying to make my life out to be something of a dream I had always had. I wanted to be the best possible version of myself, and I was trying to be. But I wasn’t managing.
Sure, on the outside, I seemed like I was all put together and you saw all of the good that I thought I was feeling. I was working in the career I had talked about since the day we had met. I was friends with the people I had only ever dreamed of meeting. I was living with my best friend and doing pretty much whatever I wanted without any care in the world.
We would fluctuate between talking every day for weeks … and not talking at all unless something was happening in the other’s life. But time went by and I missed you when you weren’t present- whether it be over the phone or in person- I knew that I needed you.
I spent a week in my fairytale land and even met a fairytale prince, but still, I longed for the boy at home and when I returned, there you were. It was silly, I know. I had spent so many years pushing your feelings aside and holding you at bay, while I continuously tried hiding all of the feelings… But, seeing you and being with you just felt so right when everything else felt so wrong.
So, we started dating and I was … reluctant to say the least. We had been friends for so long that I didn’t want to risk losing you when it all went wrong.
The first time you kissed me, I finally felt like I was home.
I was so afraid of burying myself in you that I said I needed time, but I knew that I never wanted to face a life without you. We were barely two months into the relationship when we started talking about our future together.
I didn’t believe in marriage or weddings so when our families started talking about what we were going to do, I entertained the idea of rings and engagements. I didn’t believe in forever but I believed in us. Marriage and weddings and families… They weren’t anything in the near future, so I held my anxiety at bay, but then you showed me that first ring and I realised that I would do anything if it meant I got to do it with you.
That didn’t change the fact that I hate surprises and big ordeals, however, so I ordered you a ring and I made a plan. Your birthday was coming up and the running discussion was “you should propose on your birthday!” And I didn’t know for sure if it was actually going to happen, but I did not want to take your birthday and turn into something more than you.
So, we lay in bed the night before your party and we were talking about what the day was going to look like. You kept asking me why I was so stressed and anxious. I couldn’t tell you that it was because your ring had arrived and I was planning on proposing to you. But you wouldn’t stop pestering me (like you know you do) so instead, I grabbed the ring and told you that “From now on, you’re the one I get to spend the rest of my life with… If you’ll have me.”
You kissed me, laughed, and we called our parents to let them know that we were engaged. But then at the party, you took me aside and proposed to me with my grandmother’s ring.
It made it all that more real. My proposal was genuine, of course, but hearing you say that you loved me and wanted to spend the rest of your life with me… And not because you were responding to me asking you… It made my heart more full than I ever thought it could be.
Unfortunately, shortly after our engagement, I spiralled into a mental breakdown and found myself admitted to a psychiatric institution. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened- but it was the first time to happen while I was actually happy. I was terrified that this meant I was going to lose you- but you promised that you weren’t going anywhere. You said you knew what you signed up for- and when I was released, you were right there waiting with my grandmother’s ring.
After that day, I assumed that you married me because you loved me and because you were aware of my mental health, it meant that you would accept me at my best and my worst.
When September happened, I knew that it would change us forever. I just didn’t realise how catastrophic of a change it would be. I had hoped that when you saved me, it meant you wanted to save our family, too.
Look, I’m not saying that I thought this would be easy. I know how hard it is to stick around for someone when they are in a dark place that they have to be dragged out of. I definitely never imagined that any of this would be easy for you. Hell, I never wanted to be there for myself when I was in a dark place. So why do I keep blaming you for leaving when all I ever wanted to do was leave behind this side of me?
I know the answer to the question. I blame you for leaving because you saved me and left me without a second glance. You left me fighting tooth and nail, to not only save myself but to save myself alone. After promising you would always be here to save the day, you left.
And I’m so angry. I’m so angry because no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving you. And I can’t stop loving you because even in the darkest of days, your love showed me that I was worthy of love. And slowly but surely, I was beginning to love myself a little bit.
But now? You’ve left. And the future you saved me for is not what you promised. But that’s okay. Because even if you don’t love me anymore, even if you never really did, I love me enough for the both of us.
No, that doesn’t mean I’m any less hurt or angry about you leaving me. It just means that I don’t need your love to survive. I really fucking want it- but I don’t need it.
I can’t stop loving you long enough to get over the idea that maybe you’ll come back to me and our son.
I can’t stop loving you long enough to get over the idea that maybe you’re still the man I fell in love with.
I can’t stop loving you long enough to get over the idea that maybe you’ll realise that real love is never a waste of time.
I can’t stop loving you long enough to pray every night that I’ll wake up to a phone call saying that you still love me too.
I can’t stop loving you long enough to get over the idea that my world is a better place with you in it than it ever has been without you.
And that whats why I’m okay still being in love with the person I consider the Love of My Life- even though, I guess… For someone to be the Love of Your Life, they have to BE in your life.