I’m not doing this for you. I met another Sam recently, and I’ve started to suspect there is a similar thread of behaviors that connect each and every Sam to each other.
I wish I hadn’t put you on the pedestal you found yourself on. God knows your sweet and undemanding life was comfortable enough. I wonder if God also knows why I was naive enough to think I knew what it meant to love someone honestly after a mere seventeen years.
And the worst part is, I could have loved you if you had only given me the chance. You were always so distant and unsure of yourself. I know I am partially to blame for our final parting, but I really did try.
I guess ultimately I’m just not very good at saying goodbye. The night we broke up was the first night I saw you cry. I don’t know if we’ll ever talk to each other for more than a brief moment in passing, but I hope that when that day comes I am ready to be honest with myself about what I will and will not tolerate.
I still feel some anger towards you, but I need to let you go for my own sake. Every day I think of you less and less. I hope you find someone for whom you deem worthy of the effort it takes to be completely vulnerable.