letters from my past: a breakup

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Just the second installment of letters from my past and I’m already breaking the mold by moving away from the box o’ memories and using an email for this post. I guess that’s the beauty of something that’s yours, such as this blog.
I’m feeling a bit bummed out today due to some life events that took place recently, so I went with a post that matched that mood. There will be no laughs induced and I’m not sorry for that. Sometimes life has to be lived with sadness and this letter is a reflection of one of those times for me.
I’m sorry ahead of time for sending this email. I’m sure you want nothing more than to move past all of this. But, I’m not sorry for what I need to say. I’ve never been in a relationship where there wasn’t some sort of actual breakup. I suppose it could be argued that you refusing to talk to me is a pretty clear indication of ending, but because of how things happened, I haven’t had any closure. So, if you won’t give it to me, I’m going to give it to myself.
I wanted to wait until I was no longer angry — at you, the situation or myself — to send this. And, I truly believe that I am not. I realize it’s only been two weeks, but truthfully my logical side has been dealing with our ending for months.
If I could change one thing, it would be that I would have stuck to my decision to end things on Chataqua in June. I knew in my heart after we had that discussion on the way back from Jackson Hole we were not going to make it. I wanted many things that you were not willing or able to give me and that was not going to change. What did change was my feelings about our relationship — we changed, you changed — and from that point forward, our relationship was drastically altered.
The heart is a funny thing, isn’t it? We know logically one thing or another, but our emotional brain muddles it. We want to believe something that will never be and sometimes we hold on to that belief well past the point of rationalization. And then how do we get back from that? How do we recover from this clinging to a slight bit of hope? We continue to hold on — to grasp at any little bit of something that may support this belief — because it’s so much easier than letting go and facing reality. 
I don’t regret any of it — even the clinging. I’m not sorry I met you and I wouldn’t take back any of our time together. I believe that each person we interact with changes us — sometimes that change, as well as the interaction, is small and sometimes it’s more significant. Sometimes the change is for the better and sometimes it’s for the worse. 
So, as I said before, I’m not angry. Honestly, I’m not anything — I’ve moved on.
I don’t expect any sort of response from you, that is not my intention. I just wanted closure, to let you know that I forgive you and us and I really do wish you the best. 

1 comments on “letters from my past: a breakup”

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