In Aprille, I broke up with you. And you said no. I remember being more curious than hurt, at that point, and that was likely my undoing: because I wanted to know the why, more than I wanted to hold the line.
Every since then, I have had this feeling that I was limping along, sometimes at your side, sometimes farther back, and while I feel sure you noticed, I'm not sure you ever understood why. If you didn't see it before, see it now: because, for everything I tried, everything you tried, nothing mended that breach. In my heart, if not my mind, I knew we had come to the end of things. Whatever was past that point was in whatever future we will have, whether we share that future or not--but from that point, things were over.
You didn't want that. I understand, love, believe me; no one wants to lose someone they love, me included. But I was already lost; to you, to myself, and every step I took farther away hurt more, because you were with me, telling me in myriad ways, large and small, not to go.
This is hard. I know this is hard. And it will likely get harder, for both of us, before it ever improves. But I cannot walk with you, holding the fractured dream between us. It's far too late for that.
You need to know I do this without malice of any kind. You need to know I've thought about this, deeply about this, that I've thought of little else for the past eight months. It's been a journey fraught with tension and heartbreak, as I rediscover who I am, what I need, where I want to go.
You also need to discover who you are, and what you need, apart from what you want. You need to learn the distinction, and know it clearly. You need to know where you're going, before you decide who you want on the journey. I believe strongly that all this will come in time, but it has to come from you, no one else. No one--not even me--can tell you how to live your life.
I'll be around--I still love you, and if we can manage it, I want that friendship, I want to know you, to talk to you, to listen to you. But if I'm distant over the next few days, or weeks, know that's why--I'm breathing through the pain of letting you go.
And it is causing pain, know that. You are compelling still, so curious, so smart, so talented. That hasn't changed, won't change, and in some ways that does make things harder, for both of us. It would be easier all the way around if you'd simply grown bored with me, and I was tired of things. That's not where we are.
But where we are is not where we need to be, love. I see it clearly, I hear the universe telling me, and for once, I am listening. This is what needs to happen. This is what already has happened.
Be well, love. Know you are loved, and beyond that, liked, which is sometimes more important. I wish you all good things, and, when I can, I hope to talk again. In the meantime, fly. Test your wings. See where they take you. You might surprise yourself.