I think you need to just close the fucking chapter on him even if it was long enough to be a fucking novel itself. You’ve cried over this boy so many times before, when are you going to put yourself first? When are you going to realize this is not what you deserve? When you were little would you have ever wished this for yourself? Why are you putting yourself through this? You are so goddamn important and he is a fucking idiot who didn’t deserve to know you the way he did. Let him go, let him go, let him go. There is nothing more you can do.
I am slowly learning that some people are not good for me, no matter how much I love them. I deserve someone who is gentle and kind, because my soul is getting tired. Realizing that I deserve something good is one of the first steps.
I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes, even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I’d recover. Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and I thought I was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable - only for you though, only for you.
Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove the both of us. Remember all the firsts and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. Remember the songs you couldn’t stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it’s any consolation I allowed myself to have them too.
If it comes to it I don’t want you to remember the ending.
Remember the beginning. Remember the first time you knew.
Let go of that picture where you both look so happy, like nothing in the world could touch you. Let go of that one message you still have saved on your phone that helps you believe it wasn’t just you. Let go of that blanket you both slept under, that you still curl up with on really bad days.
Let go of that moment when you knew, with every muscle in your body, that he loved you, he just couldn’t say it yet. Let go of that moment, when you knew, with every muscle in your body, that he didn’t, but you stayed.
Let go of the last time you let him back in to your heart and in to your body, because you thought it would bring him back, bring you back. And really, it felt like it did. But it didn’t. Love may sometimes be won through lust, but it can never be won back through it.
Let go of that time you got drunk and begged him to come back, when you thought you could no longer bear it without him. You are still here now, without him.
Let go of that time he called, months later, to tell you he was sorry, he didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s not enough that he didn’t ‘mean’ to hurt you, that hurting you was incidental. You deserve to be more than somebody’s collateral damage.
Let go of all the memories, until all that is left is the feeling that you’ve forgotten something but you can’t remember what it is. That feeling you get when you’re leaving home and your mind tells you that you’ve left something behind.
Allow yourself this: open up your backpack, see your toothbrush sitting comfortably in it. You have everything you need. Run back up those stairs, one last time, check that you turned the lights off. There is nothing to be done here.
This is all he is to you now, one of those dreams that you know was memorable, but the only thing you have when you wake up is a vague recollection of what it felt like to be in it.
But it will be worth it, to once more have what was yours to claim all along: guilt free self-love, an open heart that is no longer cluttered by ghosts of the past, and most of all, a good night’s sleep.
You’re not what they want anymore. I’m so sorry. They’ve moved on. Please save yourself the time and pain and do the same, please. I’m so sorry you feel like this, but the sooner you let go, the sooner you’ll feel whole again.