It’s been six months since I’ve told you I love you. Not because I stopped loving you, and not because I’m afraid to admit it, but because it isn’t my place anymore. It’s been six months of riding an emotional roller coaster without you. I’ve been strung between the constant questions I ask myself everyday; “can I get any happier?” or “could I want to die more?” I wasn’t sure — I’m still not — what was worse: being with, or without you.

The first month we were together was terrifying. I felt myself gaining feelings for someone I barely knew, but for some reason thought I wanted to marry you. I didn’t want to date anyone at the time, I wanted to be alone for a while but you changed my mind. You came in and gave me no other choice. The first month we were together, you showed me your entire music collection, all your most-loved hits and albums. You even wowed me with your beautiful guitar playing. I didn’t think you could’ve gotten more perfect, with your dark brown curls and your cute, nerdy glasses you wore everyday, but not by choice. The last 28 days of June, 2015, were just a long biography on your life. I remember our first kiss, it was in my basement in front of the couch, and you had to leave so you made Sam wait upstairs while you could grab the courage to kiss me. Even though you put your hands on my shoulders and leaned in the same way I wanted to, it was the best first kiss I’ve ever had with anyone. Thank you.

The second month we were together, I felt out of place. I was learning the little things about you and your life. I was meeting your friends — who did not like me at all — and I was meeting your family who freaked me out even more. This month, July, was the first time I got jealous over another female when it came to you. All your beautiful friends that demanded your attention, when I wanted it all. We started hanging out every day and I knew your friends were getting annoyed. I felt horrible, I didn’t want to be the reason you and your friends argued all the time.. But you didn’t care. All you cared about was spending time with me. Thank you.

The third month we were together was different. For the first time ever a side of me that I never thought would show was coming out. We spent every day of our summer together. We went to all the good, new releases in the theaters, and we tried out all the restaurants in town. For the second time ever, I smoked marijuana. For the first time ever, it was with you. You taught me all the tips and tricks when it came to weed. Although I didn’t enjoy the feeling nearly as much as you did, I listened anyway. We decided on “our song.” I didn’t listen to any of the same music as you, but you were so passionate about it, when you brought it up, I couldn’t help but fall in love with the song, too. The lyrics to Time Of Your Life by Green Day will never be the same anymore. School came around and I was scared it was going to change us, I didn’t know how things were going to go after not being able to hang out every day like we were used to. No matter where my class was located compared to yours, you made sure I saw you after every hour. You walked me to almost all of my classes and gave me a kiss every time. Thank you.

The fourth and fifth month went way too fast. The fourth month I realized I loved you. I openly admit it days after. I don’t remember much from these months, but I remember school got better for me, you helped me with my classes and made sure I did okay in all my classes. You made sure to get me to class every hour and reminded me how important it was that I was attending all of my hours. Even though I don’t remember much, I’m sure we spent every moment that we could together, and loved every second. Thank you.

The sixth month was where it all started though.The sixth month of being together, we deflowered each other in my bed, watching Lilo and Stitch, your favorite movie then (and now, according to the “get to know you” activity we were forced to do in our US History and Gov class that we share together this year). For the first time ever, I showed someone my body completely naked, and I was even more scared than I was the first time you kissed me, back in the first month. We fell in love more and more every day. You brought me to all your family activities, and stayed by my side for six months straight. After we started having sex, things became to change. My jealousy took the best of me most of the time, and it quickly wore off on you as well. We were constantly at each other’s throats in arguments. We fought at least once a day, over the stupidest things. But even after the fights, I was still madly in love with you and seeing you was better than not. You always gave me your 110%, thank you.

Seven months in, we did everything together, and barely left each other’s sides. We started getting along with the friends we didn’t share. After a while, I started becoming with your friends, and started drifting from my own, to keep you happier. Even though it hurt me a lot, I didn’t show it, and you believed me too. I figured whatever hurt me, didn’t matter to anyone as long as you were happy. All I wanted was to make you happy all the time. I know it didn’t happen much, because I was such a pain in the ass 24 fucking 7, but we always made up and seeing you happy — even if it was rare — made me a little happier all the time. The littlest things with you made me so happy, thank you.

Our eighth month and ninth together weren’t much different from our seventh and sixth. We fought all the time, but always love each other through it. I knew it was getting worse, but I had the little bit of hope in me, that things between us would get better. You started getting controlling, I couldn’t even be in contact with another male, but I understood why. Even after eight months of the cutest compliments and reassuring love between the two of us, I still became more and more insecure every day. I was never sure what happened, why I started to feel like this, but I just kept getting sadder. But you were always next to me every day, every breakdown — even if you were the cause — and you helped me through every single one of them. Thank you.

The tenth month we were together, I think we were both very tired of each other. Even though we were in love with each other, we both knew we were one another’s toxic human. I started challenging you each day on your tolerance. I wanted more freedom, without having to give something up. I started talking to some old friends again, that I gave up either willingly, or under your command. You didn’t like that at all, but I just wanted to have more freedom. You would get mildly upset with me every day, and it would rub off on me as well, and we were the two biggest assholes a couple could’ve came with. About halfway into our tenth month, I wanted — and needed — a break. Although I didn’t believe much in breaks, due to my last relationship that ended in a break that never ended, I knew I couldn’t stay away from you. I hung out with boys as much as I could, my best friend at the time tried so hard to get me into other people because she knew you and I weren’t working. We tried so hard to get me happy again, but I felt so alone. I kissed one boy on our break, it was horrible, you were a much better kisser. All I could think of was you by my side, every second I was next to him, in his ugly, red truck. You knew me better than anyone in the world, and so I went back to you. Everyone knew we would find our way to each other, so it wasn’t a surprise. A little after our break, we started getting rocky again. I thought it was getting worse, even. I couldn’t stop talking to that boy I kissed over our break, even though he was so angry at me for coming back to you, I didn’t blame him, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t love this boy like I loved you — not even the slightest bit — in fact, I didn’t even know if I liked him at all. I was stupid to leave you, even for those long, dreadful two days I tried to stay away from you. You were irresistible, and you loved me through it all. Thank you.

Eleven months in, we were the same. We fought all the fucking time. Everyone thought our love was dead, but on God, I was still madly in love with you. We were never happy with each other anymore. We both knew it was true. One day I pushed your buttons a little too much.. You reacted in a way I never thought you would, but I knew it needed to be done so I went along with it. On the 23rd of May, 2016, — eleven days before our one year anniversary — you told me we should break up, and that it would be best for the both of us. I knew it wasn’t true, that we should fix our problems like everyone said.. But I was too tired to fight any longer. I agreed, and even after you regret saying it, we still carried on with the break up. I’m sorry.

It’s been almost six months since then, and I’m still wondering how it would’ve felt to spend all three hundred and sixty five days together. I thought it would’ve been great to be able to say I’ve spent every holiday, every tradition and every day with the same person once. But from May 23rd to June 2nd, I will never know how that feels. Because June 3rd, the day I got to call you mine in 2015 was the first day I met the love of my life, even if it came with too many bumps in the road. And May 23rd I lost it all. You’re much happier with who you’re with now, and I’m so happy for you.

The first month that I wasn’t with you, I focused on nobody but myself and my best friend. She helped me through it all for a while. She was the only person there for me and in all honesty, without her helping me through it, I never would’ve stayed away from you. It would’ve been nice to know what it was like if you were lying next to me right now, instead of her, but she reminded me that there was nothing I missed more than being single and free.

The second and third month I spent without you I was with another boy. The boy that I thought I loved in ninth grade, the one my so-called-best friend at the time stole from me. We did a lot together, we spent all the days of July together. He introduced me to his entire family, they took me to the beach, and his little brother fell in love with me. Everything was okay for a while, because I had him as a distraction. He messaged me on my birthday, eight days after we broke up, wishing me a happy birthday. I never once thought of getting together with him as payback, or revenge. I never meant to make you jealous intentionally. I truly had fun with this guy and fell for him. But after a short two months — much like the first time we were together — I became unhappy and scared. I missed you so much, even if I told everyone I hated you. He was such a sweetheart and I could see so many months with him, but I just couldn’t do it at the time. I was scared to show him everything I showed you. I didn’t want what happened between you and I, to happen with him and I.

The month of September, which would’ve marked four months without you, I cried more than I cried over the past five months in all. I now have to see you every day, in my seventh hour class, with Mr. Morgan. I also see you after fourth hour, and after sixth every day with another girl. My heart drops every time I see you with her, and I know you don’t care, and I try my hardest to show I don’t care, but September was the longest month for me, and I spent it all missing you.

Five months of missing you, but this month I missed you a little bit less. I’m not sure what happened, but I started loving myself a little bit more, and started crying much less. I became a lot happier with my life, and stopped thinking about you for a while. I was very surprised myself, I’m not sure what changed but I was so happy. I saw you every day but it never occurred to me that we had shared the day together, this time, last year.

It’s been six months. I’m not sure how I feel anymore. I’ve tried loving you, but we decided we couldn’t do it right, and I tried hating you for the past six months, but nothing seems to be working anymore. I think I miss you, I think I want to love you again, but I’m not sure if it’s just because I’ve seen our photos through facebook every day for the past two weeks, on my memories, or because I’m just in pain from seeing you so happy every day. I’m not sure if when I see you in my seventh hour every day, I miss you and I want you back so badly, or I want to rip your head off for being so cruel and letting us go to such waste. I’m not sure if when I see you smiling, or hear your laugh, I hear angels and the same giggle you had on our first, second, third, and so on, dates. I’m not sure if the same laugh and smile reminds me of the devil in you that I fell in love with and hated myself over. I’m not sure if I want to cry when I hear Time Of Your Life (which has thankfully only happened once or twice since the breakup) or rip my heart out and blame you for my entire existence.

I don’t think about it too much, but when I do, I’m constantly torn between missing you and hating you. I’m not sure how I feel now, but I know a single word from you would change everything. I’d be stupid to go back to you, and I say I would never let myself love you again, but part of me wants you back so bad. Everything is so off right now, but I only wish you the best — and hope you already started with it.

I’m also sorry for all the times I made you upset, or made you angry. I’m sorry if you feel any of our relationship was a waste, I’m sorry I made you think that it was anything less than heaven– like it was in my eyes, even through the issues we shared together.