Dear — :

I went to Alex’s the other day. Found out that you’re fine. Found out that you’ve gotten over it. And that made me… feel quite lame. I kept on having this panicky fear that you were going to be in my classes next year and you’d be doing your existence with friends and things while I drifted through my classes in a signature — Limbo (just realised you won’t know what that is because you haven’t read my previous letters – oops).

Just reading over that last sentence makes me feel sick. It’s not just that that scenario would suck, but it’s that I was scared of it. What the hell kind of person did I turn into? I don’t care about these things. I move on. These have been one of the worst couple weeks of my life. I let you do that to me. I let you because I still had some hope that maybe something amazing and cliche would happen and that perhaps we could still go on.

The reality of it is that we can’t go on. You had it all figured out already (kudos!), and I just finally understood.

I watched “When Harry Met Sally” as well. I remember you mentioned it a couple times. And while watching it, I found so many things that reminded me of us. Cliches and other loveliness. But you know what? I was just grasping at straws. I wanted us to be that happy couple because it means we’d have a happy ending and it wouldn’t be like this shit that I was going through. Everytime I saw parallels I hoped that the pattern would hold and we could resolve our thing as well. That’s how I chose to cope with you.

Worst solution ever. It didn’t fix anything. It just made me go deeper down the rabbit hole. I don’t know how you did it, –. How you’re going through everything while I gave up and let myself wallow.

We won’t have a happy ending because that’s not how real life works.

Alex keeps telling me to think about myself and what makes me happy and I kept saying that what I wanted was you.

And by that I know now that you’re absolutely right. I am a whiny, clingy bitch. What an interesting revelation. At first it hurt to know that you thought that. I hold you in high esteem, obviously. I wanted your approval. But –

I’m dying day by day. I have things to do, I know this now. So I can’t allow myself to let you anchor me. I was desperately holding on to my end of the ropes even though you’d cut yourself free a long time ago. I was holding on in the vain hope that you were on the other end.

I let you give me hope. It sucks.

I know I’m messed up. I know I’m not healing from this the “proper” way. But I don’t have time for that. I used to live at breakneck speed. This year I slowed down and it hurt. I have to move faster again, stop being sluggish and watching you break me apart.

I’m going to destroy the Amy of today to make room for tomorrow. This state of mind I’m in will turn to ash. Yes, I’m still psychologically scarred. Whatever. Messed up or not I’ll be as dead as any other skeleton in thirty years. Or longer, or shorter. It doesn’t matter, time. What matters is the now.

So I guess this is a conscious decision to stop being a bitch. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry about this whole affair. It’s over now.

This high school drama doesn’t deserve the amount of thought and stress and crap I’ve been allotting to it.

I’m so privileged to even have this kind of shallowness. I could be fighting for survival right now, in another place and time.

I thought earlier this week that I wanted to be friends with you. I still do, probably. But I won’t be afraid of rejection from you anymore. I can do whatever I want now. I can be like you. Worry about actual things, like my health and my friends and sexual abuse and climate change and the anarchic state of world politics.

I can do anything because I’ve got absolutely nothing to lose anymore. I let myself care about you and losing what we had taught me that caring that deeply was a bad decision. It’s not to say that I won’t ever care about anything again, but I’ll be more cautious next time. And it will be a hell of a long wait before I ever get close to anyone again the way I got close to you.

Don’t pity me, please. I’ve tried my best to honor your wish of not talking. Now I’m telling you what I want. Don’t pity me. Don’t feel sorry for me because you think I’m messed up and I don’t have my priorities straight. I know  about and most definitely accept my problems.

Thanks for all the good times. I really appreciated it. Thanks for trying. Thanks for giving up. Thanks for teaching me. I think you’re a great guy. I’m glad you were in my life. Don’t ever hold yourself back because I know you’ll go and do amazing things. Don’t think bad thoughts about yourself because you don’t deserve them. I’m absolutely sure that someday you’ll find happiness and hope and purpose or whatever the hell you’re looking for. The world is a big place. Room for everything and anything.

Cada loco con su tema, y nosotros con nuestros caminos divergentes.

Amy.