Love,

You sound happy; I’m glad you’re happy.

The day you left was one of the worst days of my life. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I was distracted at work. I had to rehearse normal conversations with our friends so I didn’t burst into tears saying “Hey, what’s up?”

Over time I began to be able to function more normally, but still felt dead inside. I’d walk several bus stops down on the way to and from work just so I could see other people going about their lives. I needed a reminder that life existed outside of my head. I stayed late every night at work because I didn’t want to be in our apartment alone. It went from being our home to just the place I usually slept….overnight.

I tried to take your advice and reach out to friends and family for help, but you’re the only one I can be that vulnerable with. It takes years of intimacy for me to open up to someone the way I have with you. I cried briefly in front of one of our friends and it was the first time anyone other than you (and my family as a child) had seen me cry. She cried with me. I couldn’t talk about it.

I packed up and moved 2000 miles away, leaving our furniture and everything behind, hoping that I could start fresh, build a new life without you. No dice. I still miss you every day. I try not to talk about you often; I don’t want my new high-functioning roommates to know that I’m pathetically pining for my ex. I still say, do, and see things all the time that remind me of you. Months later, I still reach for my phone multiple times a day to share those things with you….and then I remember. I keep a diary instead.

I still have days where I can barely get out of bed. Some weeks I can’t even get myself to the gym more than once or twice. Missing you is exhausting. Some days I get really mad at you for what you did, and others I completely understand. Months later, I still haven’t sorted out my emotions.

Sometimes I think maybe I should date again, but the only person I want to be out with is you. Can’t seem to make anything stick. On the occasions that we still talk, I feel the dopamine surging through my system. I hope that the fact that you’re doing better is an indication that we may still have a future. I wish that you’d tell me you still wanted a future with me. And as soon as the conversation ends I crash and burn, crippled with self-doubt and loneliness.

I can tell that you’re happy now, all the while trying to hide from you my own unhappiness. Logically, I know that your newfound joy is due to the career change and new friends and experiences, but part of me worries that I was the reason you were unhappy in the first place. I’m plagued with this feeling that I was making you miserable while you were making me the happiest I’ve ever been. Even if you told me it wasn’t my fault, I don’t know at this point if I’d believe it.

When I commented on your happiness, you confirmed that you’re happier than you’ve been in a long time. I really am glad for you and wish you all the best….most days. I just wish we could be happy together.

Hoping I’ll find my strength soon,

Leslie Knope’s personality double