My blood bubbles with the bad memories and the good has been boiled away

My blood bubbles with the bad memories and the good has been boiled away

My blood bubbles with the bad memories and the good has been boiled away

LTME postMy dear friend,

We’re living a lie, a fantasy. We don’t love each other, that is certain. We’re stalled, we are lost, perhaps we both lack the effort to do what needs to be done. Perhaps neither of us wants to do what needs to be done. I don’t question that we care about each other. I know you care about me and I know I care about you and that’s why we both feel the need to have this alternate reality where we pretend. I’m tired of my voice going unheard and the meaning of what you do hear, picked apart and taken only as you wish to take it and not for what it really is. We believe that it will get better and that’s what I believe has kept us going and holding on, but for me? It’s over, it has been for a long time. I’ve said it. I’ve meant it, but you tell me it’s alright. We’ll work on it. I feel like a prisoner, shackled tightly to my demise, resentful and packed with hate. My blood bubbles with the bad memories and the good has been boiled away. I think that’s why I held on so tightly. I thought that if I left, I abandoned those memories. I’m wrong, those memories are mine forever. Locked away. I was also wrong to continue this fake relationship with you. I should have left forever ago. Before the bitterness, before the resentment, before the endless fights about nothing. I want with everything in me to end this. But I am afraid of who you will become when I leave. I would love to remain friends, I would love to see you with someone who genuinely made you happy and showered you with love and respect you deserve, not this half hearted nonsense we both offer each other. I’m not sure where we lost ourselves and I’m not sure we can ever find those people we once were. I just hope that tomorrow you’ll finally hear my voice, or realize yourself the house we live in is beautiful on the outside, but our home ugly. I don’t want to waste another year, another day or another moment playing pretend.

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