Anj,

I’m writing thks for you to say goodbye, the goodbye I think we never really got because you said you couldn’t do it and in a way, goodbye never felt right for us. I always imagined we would stay as friends. That one day you’d text me as if nothing had happened and maybe we’d meet for a coffee and talk like we always had, two people with the same values in life. I wish I could sit with you and talk about your love life and not feel an aching in my heart but of course, you can’t. I can’t.

I realized all of this. And I realized it again when I opened that box, the one where I kept all the sentimental things I couldn’t throw away – the card, the photographs I had with you, and every little notes I made whenever you said something so right. I sifted through them and remembered how much I did love you and how honestly I saw a future for us. The words you wrote on that first and last letter you gave me warmed my heart and made me believed I was worth being loved. I was worth your love. You did that. You made me believe I was worthy and even now, I cannot thank you enough for that.

But it’s time to let you go. And though you aren’t that person anymore – I hope you find the kind of love you deserve, the kind I was unable to give you. I hope you live all those dreams you spoke passionately whenever our fingers danced together in each other’s palms. I hope you don’t think of me. I hope you burned those letters I gave you. But I hope you know that I’m so glad that you’ve given me the chance to love you. I’m so glad to spend those months with you and that love, that feeling of absolute euphoria.

You will remain in the memory box, not touched by time or reality or cruelness of the world.

Goodbye, old love. You can be free now.