All the things left unsaid.

All the things left unsaid.

All the things left unsaid.

Dear Ella,

After you suggested meeting, saying there “…were a lot of things unsaid.” Then subsequently cancelling, I’ve to get well, everything, off my chest.  Since you’re never going to read this, I guess I have the luxury of being completely honest with you. Maybe it’s selfish, childish, immoral or immature to want to write this nearly four years after we ended; but the memory of you has become like a cancer, I can’t continue to have imaginary conversations with you or imagine all the subtle permutations we could have taken. I am destroying every part of myself and I rather live despite you than die because of you.

When we first started seeing each other it was like a dream come true. I had been single for a year after my first serious relationship ended. We were similar and yet different enough to always have points to talk about and things to show each other. There was real chemistry with a beautiful, intelligent, passionate and caring girl. You brightened my world and sharpened my senses. Needless to say, I quickly fell in love with you, completely.  The problems between us surfaced fairly quickly and I’ll admit here I was less than a gentleman. In reality, probably less than a man in the way I reacted. You were beautiful, young and had an incredible personality; I could understand why you had a great deal of male attention. I was scared of losing what I had only just found, of not being able to compete for attention which brought all my insecurities to the surface, but when you began to shy away from me I should have seen it for what it was instead of persisting. 

I guess it could be said this was two thirds of the problem: there were too many people in our relationship. We worked together, we went out together – we knew all the same people. So no problem was just between us, it was shared innumerable times. Complicated, converted, wrecked and rehashed until at least I had no idea what was going on. All I could see was that I loved you, I wasn’t even sure if you loved me. I’m not sure I cared but now, with hindsight I know now, after your actions, you had no thought or feeling for me. 

I should have walked away when you wanted to date “…unofficially” I’m not perfect by any means, but I deserve more than that. But I still carried on with the illusion, day after day letting you walk over me. Until you cheated on me and still, after your friends treating me like dirt, your brother threatening to kill me as well as all of the ignored texts, calls and e-mails, I still came back, still wanted you. Our last meeting I gave you a bracelet for good luck and wished you well in Spain, I thought this was it. But you dragged our relationship out until the bitter end; I lost my temper and said some disgusting things but you, your friends and your family kept throwing everything back in my face for months. But none of you had the backbone to simply tell me to face what they thought. You showed yourself to be a sly, manipulative and pathetic individual. I saw who you dated to make me jealous, he never mentioned you. Looks like it worked out really well for you two. And after whoring your way around Spain , you came back and actually tried to smile at me. On that day, I was going to Homebase, to buy a knife, to kill myself. That was the simple end result of our relationship and I don’t think I’ve felt anything since. 

But, you’re in the past. You’re a ghost and there is nothing left that you can take from me. I will pick myself up from the mess that’s grown around me since I left you.  The next time I drive past your house, the next time I see your brother, the next time I see you. I won’t feel that gape in my stomach. You’ll just see everything you left with no chance of ever getting back. 


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