Heartbreaking to think about you. Things are different, I feel it. I know it too, given you’re married now. You moved on so fucking quickly. I despise it. I despise what I did in leaving you. I despise what I didn’t do, how I didn’t fight and stay and think critically. Call it life, or God—it doesn’t matter, because either way it just is. That’s how things unfolded. I wish I could move on. I feel different, I am different, and I feel like I’m going downhill, downhill the same way my family told me I was headed if I didn’t change course and repent. I’m sure in some ways I’m better for what happened, stronger. But I am heartbroken nonetheless. 

2 years gone by and I feel like I’m in the same position I was that spring and summer of 2018. I hate it, it makes me want to escape—do things that’ll make me forget even temporarily what I failed to do and what I did. It’s fucking brutal, I don’t know why people put themselves in committed relationships when there’s the risk of a broken heart. I don’t want to be that person who’s writing a letter to their ex on this site, 10 years post breakup. What a shit-show life is.