The one that got away

The one that got away

The one that got away

LTME-postIt’s been nearly 2 years since we broke up for good but I still think about you every day. I wish I could move on with my life as easily as you did. I’ve come to find out that that’s impossible to do when you care about someone as much as I cared about you. I thought we had a relationship like in the movies. We started out as friends. Really good friends. You were my confidant – I told you everything. You made me laugh, you made me smile, and you made me happy.

Then feelings developed. And everything changed.

This is why I didn’t want to give in to these feelings in the first place. Because I was afraid of what would happen if/when we broke up. I didn’t want to loose you as a friend. I thought I needed you in my life and the very thought of not having you tore me up inside.
But I succumbed to my feelings. I really, really liked you. I may have even loved you. But that’s something you’ll never get the privilege to know.

We had a rocky relationship to say the least. We were always on-again, off-again. Even when we were off we were still on. I knew how much you liked me by the way you looked at me. I want you to give me that look again. I want to feel the connection between us again. I was so insanely happy during that time, happier than I had been in years.

But suddenly everything changed. Or maybe just you did.

The night we broke up for good was a night I cried more than I ever had. I was hurt, confused, angry, frustrated, and absolutely heartbroken. My greatest fear had come true – I lost you.

I blamed myself. I asked myself dozens of times “what did I do wrong? Why does he keep hurting me like this?” It took me months to realize that I wasn’t to blame for our relationship falling apart. That’s all on you.

We were different friends after that. We both said we didn’t want to loose each other so we made it work. The problem was that it wasn’t working for me. I was always just an option to you. You never made an effort to be my friend. I was putting my all into making this new kind of friendship work but you saw me as a “crazy stalker ex-girlfriend.” What hurt the most though was seeing how much effort you put into your other friendships. I felt unappreciated. Unwanted. Taken advantage of. I felt like a backup plan while you were my only plan.

It’s been 6 months since we last spoke. Sometimes I get the urge to message you just to ask how you’re doing. But the smarter part of me knows: you don’t care and you never will. I may care how you are but you certainly don’t care how I am. You’ve had 6 months to find out. 180 chances to prove me wrong and show that you care. And I haven’t heard a damn word from you. Yet here I am, writing this letter telling you how I still think about everything before, during, and after the breakup. What a terrible thing it is to be a hopeless romantic in a hookup culture.

You, my almost love, are the one that got away.


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