Dear G,

It’s been about three years now since we walked into the hall with my parents. I looked around at the beautiful picture the woman was painting of what our wedding would look like. It was going to be a summer wedding just about one year from that day. As I listened and watched you and my parents soaking it all in, all I could think was, “no.” I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you. I wasn’t ready. I was 22 years old, and I hated myself half of the time. I couldn’t even love the reflection in the mirror so how could I possibly give you all of the love you deserved? I couldn’t do it.

I broke your heart. No, I shattered it. I took a beautiful masterpiece and dropped it from the Empire State Building kind of shattering. A kind of blow that can’t be reversed. You can’t glue that one back… it’s done.

I tried. I tried to fight back, but for some reason, it wasn’t working. We couldn’t sync. We couldn’t find a rhythm. I yelled, you cried, you argued, I cried. Who were we? That’s the thing though… we didn’t even know. We were too young to know who we were.

I loved you, G. I promise you, I did. I think I just knew the mess that stormed inside of my head and heart and understood that you couldn’t weather it. Not that you’re not strong, G… you are. I just couldn’t let you try. It wasn’t fair.

Three years later, and the storm is calming. I found my path and you’ve strengthened yours. I’m proud of you. You may laugh because we always end up in arguments and tears when we talk for too long, but I am… I’ll always be proud of you. I loved you, and you gave me a love that made me feel so beautiful for the first time in my life. I pray that your future wife can give you all of the love you deserve because you’re a wonderful man, G. I just couldn’t be that wife to you. Not at 22.

I’m happy now… just me, myself and my future. I’m learning I’m strong on my own, but there are moments when I miss how you made me laugh. I miss the comfort and feeling of being home. I’ll find it again though. I know I will.

And from what you say, it seems like you may have found it in someone. It is hard to imagine you waiting at the altar for someone other than me, but we both know it’s what the future holds whether we can admit it or not. Where I’m going, you don’t have a future. Where you are, I don’t have a home anymore. It took you breaking off communication to see it, but it’s true. We are growing separate ways.

G, this is the last you’ll hear from me. This is the last time I’ll talk about the past. This is the last time I’ll make things difficult on that heart of yours. I’m thankful 25 has brought me leaps and bounds from 22, but sometimes time can’t heal all that has been hurt or broken.

I love you, and I set you free of me.

Take care, G.