As of yesterday it’s been eight weeks since we broke up. Two months. Jeez, two months. I’m still very, very hurt. So hurt that in the past couple weeks I’ve plugged “how to get over him” and “how to get over a breakup” more than once in my Pinterest search bar (Google would have been too desperate, too real), and in many of the articles I glanced through it suggested writing a letter and then not send it. It apparently gives you a chance to say everything you wanted to say but couldn’t or didn’t; it gives a way to let out your feelings. And you know me, I’m entirely driven by my feelings. You’re supposed to write down what you loved about the relationship, what you didn’t love. The ups, the downs, and it helps you reflect and accept the fate of the relationship. Apparently.
I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss joking with you. I miss just being with you. I was so happy to spend time with you, and I miss doing that. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured myself laying with you on your couch, scrolling through the options on Netflix with neither of us being able to make a choice. I wish for that again. I just want to be with you again, and it hurts to just think that you didn’t fight for me, to be with me. You didn’t. I thought bringing up what was wrong, what I was noticing, would make you want to fix it, make you want to try harder. And it didn’t. Honestly, if you tried for even just one week and failed, I would be less sad now.
You were everything I wanted. You’re smart, you’re silly, you are nerdy in the best way. I loved that you were into your gym but you’re not a bro. Charismatic and fun, easy going. You love languages and words and don’t know if I ever stressed just how much I loved that about you, how attractive that was to me. So many times I described you as the male version of me to my friends. I was so happy to call you my boyfriend. I could easily picture our life together. I thought you were the one. I wanted you to be one.
My family didn’t like you. I never told you that, because I wanted it to change without being forced. They had some really old fashioned and ridiculous ideas about what a relationship should look like, and I constantly butted heads with them about it. They thought you should come pick me up for every date even if we were in your area, pay for every meal (that’s more because of my current unemployment, but also a little because you’re the boy), and were positively puritan in their idea of us spending the night together. You knew that last one, I know you said it was rough to think that you never woke up next to me, and I felt it too, but I just couldn’t disappoint my parents even though I was 26 and that’s a normal adult relationship. I was juggling their expectations and my wants, and well, family always comes first for me- even at the detriment of my happiness. They were always so mad that we didn’t have a set plan, yet didn’t care that that wasn’t a priority for me. I never cared about that, for me it was simply being with you that I wanted, why would we need to schedule out our meals and activities? Honestly, it contributed a lot to us not seeing each other certain times, because they would throw a fit if I drove to you (25 minutes away *gasp*) and they really didn’t let me have an adult relationship. They didn’t. They also didn’t like your attitude towards them. You didn’t act like you were interested in getting to know them. You were aloof and standoffish, and it wouldn’t have killed you to make small talk. You should have been able to connect that my family is central to my life, and that you needed to be on good terms with them.
And my sister. She hated you. I love her dearly, but once she thinks a certain way about a person she doesn’t change, even if it’s a stupid reason. She thought you were pretentious and that you didn’t make the effort to get to know her. She was so mad because one time when we were at a party you said a blanket hello to everyone and didn’t seek her out to say hello individually. Silly, I know. You could have tried harder though. You know how close we are, and you were lacking in the effort there. She and my brother in law are not only my family, they’re my friends. And there was a disconnect with you there.
I know family isn’t your thing. You’re not close to yours at all. You never ever talked about them, and even when I poked and prodded for something, anything, you were closed lipped. It baffled me. I can count on one hand the number of stories you told me about them. You also waited a very long time to tell them about us and I hated that. You must have known how much that bothered me. And then when you finally told them, you hardly told me about their reactions. That was fucked up to me. If there’s anything to be mad at, it’s that. If I see you again I’m going to feel compelled to tell you to let your family know about your next girlfriend sooner, because it’s going to give her a complex.
You didn’t show affection the way I needed it. I need to hear “I love you” or “I think you’re great” or something along those lines. I told you I needed words of affirmation, more than once, actually. That would have been the easiest solution. I don’t know why you decided you couldn’t do that. And that’s made me agonize over if you really loved me or not. I think you did. I hope you did.
You told me that it wasn’t because of me. I had such a fear that I wasn’t enough, I told you that is an insecurity of mine in a relationship- that I’m not enough to make someone want to stay. You told me that I was everything and it was just because of “your fucked up brain” that you couldn’t give me what I needed. I wish we talked more about that. I want to understand more. Why you couldn’t open up more, let me in more. You hardly talked about your thoughts and feelings, and that’s all I want to talk about. Even your day to day thoughts, “this is annoying” or “this funny thing happened that I want to remember”. I suppose you realized that you don’t work that way and I do, and if I think of it that way it’s easier to see why you walked away instead of trying. Doesn’t make it hurt less though.
Still though, I wonder why. We were good, so good, together. I know when we had that final conversation I said no one was to blame. I don’t blame you, but I do think you could have tried. But, I also deserve someone who is going to try, who isn’t going to give up. I said that maybe it was just time for us to end organically, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. I believe that, but I also wish I didn’t say it, because it now feels like I was letting you off the hook. When I said I don’t hate you, could never hate you, that I don’t blame you, you said, “and that’s one of the things I admire about you.” And I wanted to scream and tell you if you just said things like that before maybe we wouldn’t be having this sad conversation now.
You lack emotional maturity. Really, that’s the main thing that contributed to our breakup. You aren’t emotionally in the place that I am. You did realize that. I don’t think you could articulate it but I think that’s what it is. Even if you wanted it, you couldn’t, and you realized that wasn’t good for me. The thing that sucks though is because I have such strong emotions, every day without you has hurt. I’ve cried through writing this letter. I was supposed to finish it yesterday, on the actual two month mark, but had to put it aside because I couldn’t see through my tears anymore. It made me too sad to write. I just hope you also realize how much love you walked away from. I have so much to give.
My good friend told me yesterday that my pain shows that I was genuine and true in my feelings. At least I know I’m being authentic. Small consolation though.
I guess that’s it. I miss you, I love you, I hope you’re doing well. I still wonder what I could have done to make this last, and I know it’s going to take me a long time to heal. I wish you could read this. I wish I could tell you to your face how and what I’m feeling. I have this bizarre fantasy that I see you on a night out and you ask me how I’m doing, and I say “Do you want the polite answer or the real one?” and then I tell you exactly how I’m doing…and most of the key points in this incredibly long letter. And you tell me that you are hurting too. I don’t want you to forget about me. I don’t want you to just think of me as ‘this girl I used to date’. I want to be missed. I really hope you miss me.
Anyway, I guess it’s time to say goodbye. I don’t want to, but if I don’t stop now I can keep going forever, and that won’t be helpful to me either. I’ll close this with the same way I said goodbye when we broke up.