Dear Ethan,
I know I told you that I would only write you one letter, but I haven’t gotten over you. So this is my final letter to you and only you, so that I have more room to say everything I need to say. This is really the last chapter that I’m going to write you in.

You should know what happened when you left. I don’t regret being with you. I can’t forget the days we talked for hours. You made me laugh and I miss that when I’m sad. People who tell me “it’s alright” make me feel worse. I hate their pitiful eyes & formal words. I need someone to care but you’re busy in your new found world.

Was it easy for you to move on? Do you ever miss me?
Such thoughts continue to disturb me. Only the puffy eyes and the damp pillow know I haven’t slept for several nights. 

You left me with a ‘black dog’ that comes along everywhere. I no longer understand how people can be happy. I hate that I can’t. I still depend on you for appreciation. I am so tired of fighting the lack of thoughts. Accepting your sudden absence is so difficult, I don’t think I can ever do it.

I have no energy to get out of my bed or leave my room. I can’t eat anymore. I’m good for nothing. Nobody can help me because I can’t help myself.

There is a certain pain all over and I don’t know why. I’m tired without doing any work. My mind feels like it is dying day by day. I’m stuck in a mess I myself created but I don’t know how to come out of it. 

I was about to do what I said before you left – end my life. “I don’t care what you do to yourself.” All I wanted to know was if you really didn’t care. 

In the beginning, our budding romance was euphoric. The thought of you made the days brighter and the moments without you seemed almost unbearable. And then, reality set in. We got comfortable and eventually just gave up. We realized we could live without each other and started to drift apart. Moments after the breakup, I’ll admit, you were easy to hate. Your name was changed in my contacts list to plenty of expletives followed by the most recent, “The one who I ruined,” reminding me that in a moment of weakness, my attempt to reach out would clearly get me nowhere.

I wish I didn’t feel the need to cyberstalk your social media a dozen times a day and see if you’ve added any new girls that could actually replace me. I blocked you for the purpose of making sure I kept myself from texting you, from checking on you when I know that you’re doing fine without me. I want to thank you for not sticking around. I never wanted to be the girl you settled for. I wish you the best and I mean it. I know you never meant to hurt me or make me feel the pain you did, and I forgive you. I know that you loved me and at one point actually wanted things to work. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.

It’s crazy to think that you were once my best friend, my whole world, filling the void in my day. And now, you’re a hazy memory of a time.

I want to know why this happened so fast. We had one conversation and you told me you weren’t ready, the next thing I knew it was over and you were gone. Like a ghost you literally vanished from my life without so much as a goodbye.

It destroyed me. I was so confused, how can you look someone in the eyes and tell them you love them every day, and then tell them you don’t love them anymore?

Were you only saying those words because you knew it was what I needed to hear to stay and you weren’t ready to be alone yet? Did you ever really love me? Or was it just that you enjoyed the companionship, the way I loved you? You knew how important close relationships were in my life.
You knew my biggest trigger was losing people I love. You knew it could be dangerous for my mental health if you walked away, and you did it anyway.

The part that is tearing me up inside the most is just that with knowing all of those things about me,
you still never said a word. You never asked me if I was okay. You never gave me closure.

One day I was the person you loved and the next day I was a complete stranger you’d already erased from your life. It’s taken every ounce of strength I have to pull through this. And I really wasn’t sure I would survive it this time because the truth is, I really never have felt a love like that with anyone else, and so when you walked away it really did feel like my world, and my life, was over.

I was stranded in the middle of a desert with no map or sense of direction. I could recite any basic fact about you like an oddly specific encyclopedia, but I can still never directly name what your intentions were. Your mind and motives are as elusive to me now as they were when I was with you. I used to try to decode your text messages like they were less interesting Chaucer pieces. Everything you ever said to me was a puzzle with no edge pieces. I tried my hardest to piece it together, but I often walked away discouraged and empty-handed. I asked serious questions playfully to avoid scaring you into your mysterious hole, but they always hit a dead end. What are we? Where is this going? Why are you doing this to me? Eventually, I had to stop asking. I understand now that avoiding these inquiries was possibly the greatest kindness you could have ever offered me. Now, far removed from the enigma of what was and wasn’t, I still don’t think I would want to know what the object of your game was. I’ve grown far away from you but I have yet to become indestructible.  

Looking back on our “relationship” it’s easy to identify the moments where I should have known better or listened to my intuition. I made so many excuses for you in my heart, but my brain always knew better. My thinking I should leave wouldn’t suffice for my heart. I had to know I was done before I could wrap it up.

There is only one moment I have that I can reflect on where I knew I should have left and still chose not to.

We had an argument that I can’t remember the specific details of. I remember not thinking much of it at all. We argued like this all the time. I don’t know why, but I decided to tell my mom about it. I rarely talked about you to my family, but for some reason I did on this particular day.

After a long, relieving rant I looked over at her. Her mouth hung open as if I had just confessed to a brutal murder. Her blue eyes went glassy with tears as we sat in the silence. She eventually gathered the courage to say:

“What have I done so wrong in my life that makes you think it’s okay to be treated like that?”

I couldn’t reply. I never did.

The silence filled the car. She told me a story about my aunt to change the subject, but my mind was elsewhere for the remainder of our time together. I carry the weight of that question to this very day.  I felt, and still feel, so guilty for putting her in a position to feel that way. How could I let her take more responsibility for your actions?

I never mentioned your name to her again. How could I? 

You managed to know exactly how to trigger so many of my insecurities. Insecurities I had, unbeknownst to me at the time. I don’t blame you for this. I sucked at communicating. And I feel like I just didn’t understand you. But truth be told I was also struggling to understand myself.

I don’t think you realized at the time how you managed to break my heart to the core. To break my spirit irreparably. The paramount rejection I felt.

I remember you accusing me of wanting you to validate me? As if it was so absurd? As if I was needy? Insecure? Broken? Well, you were right. I wish you could have understood that my desiring your validation was totally valid.

I needed your validation. I craved it desperately.

Not for my individual self-esteem or for my ego. But for my esteem in our relationship. As your partner. As yours.

Just as you needed to feel respected by me, I needed to feel valued by you. Appreciated by you. Cherished by you.

I poured out my heart to you and told you things I have never shared with anyone before. I planned my entire future around you. I was so prepared to commit solely to you. When you left me it hurt. I cried for days, weeks even. I pretend to be over you to cope. It sucks.

I want you to know that you broke my heart. I want you to know that you really destroyed me on the inside when you chose to just get up and leave.  I still find myself thinking about you and what I could have possibly done to keep you in my life. 

I was practically selling myself to these people to the best of my abilities. But it just never felt like I was enough. Instead of giving me reassurance and confidence, I just felt even more anxiety and insecurity. I was always so afraid of the people in your life.

And I now realize that it was all because you never really fought for me yourself. You never really defended me. You never really did anything to defend me. 

I want you to imagine this specific situation: picture a girl lying down on her bed at night; she’s desperately trying to keep her tears from falling because she doesn’t want to be that cliché weak girl who cries herself to sleep. She’s trying so desperately to think of something else; to take her mind off of the pain that she’s feeling in that moment.

But when her mind refuses to just think of anything, she tries to accept these uncomfortable thoughts. She tries to rationalize everything that she’s just been through. She’s trying to make sense of her situation. She’s trying to gain closure so that she can move on from this breakup that has been like a living hell for her.

Now, I want you to picture my face on that girl. That was me. I was on my bed – and that wasn’t just one night. That was a series of countless sleepless nights that I spent awake thinking about us; thinking about you. 

I was the one who made the first move. I was the one who sent the first text message. I was the one who really put in the initial effort. I made it a point to try to engage every single one of your social media posts at the risk of looking like a fool to you. I tried to back off a little bit when I felt like it seemed a little desperate of me. But I couldn’t help it. 

I showered you with so many compliments; words that I had never uttered to anyone else in my life. I always made it a point to look my absolute best whenever I knew that I would be seeing you. I always told you that I felt lonely and sad whenever we weren’t together; that I missed you whenever you weren’t around. I did my absolute best to carve out room in my life for you; but it seemed like you were unwilling to do the same. It seemed like I had no more room in your heart. And that just broke me.

You ignored so many of my text messages. You left so many phone calls unanswered. You were so hot and cold with me to the point that you were sending me so many mixed signals. I still tried my best to push forward. I still thought that I had a shot at getting you to be consistent with me. I knew it was a long shot. I knew that the chances were slim. But you were still a risk that I was willing to take. I was willing to put myself through the hell and the torment that you were putting me through just because I knew that if you ever answered my efforts, it would all be totally worth it. And yet, even after every disappointment, I still put myself out there for you. Even after every rejection, I still wanted to do my best to make myself available to you.

I somehow convinced myself to think that you were eventually going to budge if I just stayed persistent. I thought that you merely needed a little nudging.

I thought that I was doing the right thing by staying relentless; by working as hard as I could to win your affections. I thought that persistence was really the key. All I wanted to do was be around you and spend time with you. All I wanted was for you to give me the kind of attention that I was so ready to give to you. I just couldn’t stop myself from wanting to win you over. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to shower you with all of my adoration and praise. But then it also got to the point wherein I realized that I was getting tired of chasing an impossible dream.

It was as if I was climbing a mountain that had no summit. It was like swimming into shark-infested waters with no shore in sight. It was an unwinnable situation and the more work I put into it, the more depressed I became. I got discouraged. And ultimately, I realized that I needed to stop chasing after you. I needed to stop tiring myself out. I needed to save face and just salvage whatever was left of my dignity. Did I ever stop loving you? No. I merely let go of the fantasy of you and me ever being together again.

It’s clear now that I always had the language to ask for the love that I needed. There never was a communication barrier between us. I simply did not have the power to approach you with any concerns. I’ve always been eager to please, even when it compromises my own needs. It’s certainly no accident that my timid nature always awarded you the upper hand. 

My expectations were truly always that low. I never asked to be showered in diamonds. I didn’t demand love sonnets or legal commitments. My life was tumultuous and I only wished for one solid, unmoving piece. You were only a text away, but I would feel embarrassed if I dumped my anxieties into a message and you ignored it. I needed you to be solid ground, but I fell through the cracks any time I thought about reaching out for support.

That obviously never happened, and I realize now that I shouldn’t have wanted that even if it was a possibility. All that hard work and patience for what? To end up being the only girl in the world that would accept some guy at his worst and pure laziness at best? You would think that all the Jane Austen I’ve consumed would have taught me better than to wish for that.

Still, I could never seem to find my footing to escape. How was it so easy for you to periodically leave? Each time I seemed to sneak away I found myself sucked back in before I was even able to draw breath. Whenever I got comfortable without you, you would reach out with a friendly tone to maintain your connection to me. I thought it was innocent, and even mature of us to maintain a subtle friendship. But it was truly only your access to me. When things became uncomfortable I would crawl back into the safety of your arms.

As cruel as it all seems, I have to believe that you didn’t intend to cause that much damage. I can accept that you understood I would be hurt. You couldn’t have imagined the days that bled into weeks and months that I spent exhaustively examining and trying to diagnose the theoretical “us”. You didn’t mean to waste months of my life on purpose. I choose to believe that because I need you to have a redeemable quality so that I don’t feel so stupid for allowing you this much space in my mind. It was easy for you because you never were forced to face the consequences of your actions. You were able to walk away from the destruction you caused and forget about it. I, unfortunately, was not offered the same luxury.

I talked about you to my ceiling fan, to my showerhead, and to every single traffic light on my commute.

But where did those conversations lead me?

Nowhere.

I try not to be so harsh with myself for not leaving earlier. Everything is different in retrospect. In the moment, the opportunities to leave appeared as opportunities for you to grow and change. You never did, and I forgive you for that. I hope you’re doing well and that you reflect on our time together as fondly as you are able to. 

And so how things ended so nastily. With such contempt. With such hate. With such resentment. I’m still not over it.

Truthfully, I’m still not over you. I always prided myself on being a good ex-girlfriend. The kind of ex-girlfriend you keep in touch with. The kind of ex-girlfriend with whom you remain friends.

In this case, you are the exception to the rule. In this way, and so many others.

Because you’re the first ex-boyfriend I ever hated. I mean really fucking despised. I hated you like I never hated anyone in my life. I imagined coincidentally bumping into you someplace and ignoring you. I imagined exactly how I’d scowl, how I’d roll my eyes, how I’d totally disregard you.

I’m ashamed and embarrassed to admit that I wished everything bad for you at some point. But you were an exception in another way too. I think I hated you this much when things fell apart because you’re the only guy I ever really loved.

You know how sometimes you wonder if you loved a person from your past? Love can be hard to quantify, right?

With you I know that I loved you for sure.

When I push past my feelings of hate and resentment, and I think back to the time we were together, I loved so many things about you. I loved so many things about us.

I don’t regret you. Being with you taught me so many things such as what love truly feels like, how it is to open up to someone and how to be happy. At one point, I wanted you to hurt as much as you hurt me. But now, I wish nothing but the best for you. I hope you get to live a wonderful life. I miss you from time to time, but that’s okay. Overall, I hope you’re doing fine and deep down I will always still hold a little bit of love for you in my heart.  

And you can trust that I’m never going to forget you. It may have had a sour ending but that doesn’t mean that we didn’t have some pretty sweet memories in between.

You actually allowed me to experience what it really means to be happy. I just want to thank you for the times that you made me laugh even when I didn’t want to smile. Thank you for always making me feel supported.

Every time I see you, there are questions lingering in the air, questions far too awkward and inappropriate even for me to ask.

Some of them will only make us both sad. I wonder about what your life is like now. Do you love someone? Does someone love you? Has your new love made you question whether you loved me at all, whether you even knew what love was when you gave it to me?

Then, there are questions about how we exist in our new space. When is it okay to speak to you? At concerts or when you graduate from high school? When I see you at a funeral, with your new girlfriend at your side? Should I touch your hand and say kind words? Or should I just wave and turn away?

Everything has changed and I get that. We aren’t Instagram friends, we don’t even talk on the phone. Instead we text in short hand. l type ‘ty’ and you send back a ‘np’, like we’ve never handwritten a note or a Christmas card.

I don’t hate you anymore, most days. Just some days. And with time my disdain, heartbreak, and dismay dwindle. To say you will always hold a special place in my heart sounds so fucking stupid and cliche. But it’s the truth. My love was not perfect. And neither was I.

But I loved you immensely, just know. I still love you. I think on some level I always will. I’m not sorry for the fucked up shit I did after our breakup.

I do wish all the best for you going forward in your life. You’re a good guy. A hardworking, loving, exceptional one. And you really deserve everything good in this world. I wish that for you.

It’s so hard to imagine that when we first met I was so broken and lost. But somehow, when you looked at me with those eyes, I felt safe and at ease. I never thought I would connect and trust somebody so fast as I did with you. You coerced me out of my shell, out of my safe bubble and made me really take in the world for what it was. As our relationship carried on, I felt okay being vulnerable with you and opening myself up and exposing my flaws to you. When I did, you told me that you would still love me no matter what. You always told me that it was okay and that everything would be alright. But little did I know that things would never truly be alright.     

Deep down I never really believed things would be fine. But I attempted to make the best of it. I’m sorry for all of the times that I expressed the problems, worries or stress I had going on in my life. I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations.     

There are so many things that have been left unsaid. The closure is overrated, and I genuinely believe that. I don’t have to get over you just so I can live my life. I’m perfectly fine with keeping you as a real piece of my heart even as I make my way through this world. I don’t have to let you go just so I can keep on going myself. I don’t think that I really have to have closure with you so that I can be happy again. I know that I can still find happiness even though I never got to say everything that I wanted to say with you.

I know that our love was a waste. And while I also know that it just wasn’t meant to be, it still stings. It still hurts to know that neither of us could make things work. It hurts to know that despite our best intentions, we still couldn’t find a way out of that place of darkness that eventually consumed us. And I guess that’s what love really is. We are all led to believe that it’s perpetual light and brightness. But it’s not.

A lot of what makes up love is darkness. No one really has loved all figured out. It’s like having to walk through a maze with only a candle to light the way. Love wasn’t made for the faint of heart. It wasn’t meant for the weak. And I guess that’s why we didn’t last. We were weak. And while I’m not necessarily over our breakup, I’ve come to accept that love wasn’t for us. And that’s okay.

If someone would’ve told me that I’d be writing an open letter to you as my ex-boyfriend, I swear on everything, I wouldn’t have believed them.

I felt good with you. I felt safe with you. I felt I was exactly where I was supposed to be — with you.

I remember instinctively desiring to help you. To be of service to you. I wanted to give my all to you. To fall for you. To trust you fully and to be yours completely.

Thank you for loving me. For the time you did. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to love you. Thank you for maintaining your faith in me even when I didn’t have any faith in myself. I really want to thank you for everything good that you gave me. Thank you for allowing me to be free of the judgment and criticism of your friends and family. I was so desperately in love with you and I always wanted the people closest to your heart to like me.

The truth persists that there are plenty of things that I have to say to you, and even though you’re probably not going to read this, it’s still worth a try. Here are eight final confessions that I need to make:

1. As much as I hate it, I always find myself randomly thinking about you more often than I’d like.
It’s not that I want to erase the memory of you from my mind completely. I wouldn’t want that. I wouldn’t want to let go of what we had completed. It’s just that I didn’t think I’d still be thinking of you as much as I do now.

2. I miss having you around me. I miss the way that I felt whenever I was with you. It’s you that I miss so much. It’s the way that I acted and felt whenever you were around. It’s the person I became whenever you were there. That’s what I miss most about your presence. You made me happy, and I miss that happiness.

3. It was never easy for me when we ended. It still isn’t easy for me now.
It was so hard for me to walk away from what we had. And while it’s gotten easier to bear, it’s still incredibly difficult.

4. I may not be happy with the result, but it’s what’s meant to be for us both.
I really have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes that right thing to do isn’t necessarily going to be what makes me happy. And that’s okay. That’s life. Sometimes, the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

5. There are plenty of reasons for me to hate you, but there is one big looming reason as to why I still love you.
You’re you. And even though I hate so many parts of who you are, I still choose to be in love with you as a whole. Unfortunately, love alone is never enough to sustain a relationship. And we just had too many issues to deal with as a couple.

6. I will always do my best to make myself available to you just not in the way that I once was.
I’ll still be there for you but only in a friendly capacity. I’ll be there for you in the sense that I can listen to you vent about your problems. But I can no longer hold you in my arms until all the hurt goes away. That’s no longer in my job description.

7. I wanted you to feel as hurt as I did when we walked away from what we had.
There’s always something comforting about knowing someone else is experiencing the same kind of pain that you’re experiencing as well. It’s a “misery loves company” kind of situation. And that’s how I felt when we broke up. I hoped that it was just as painful for you as it was for me. It gave me comfort to think about how you were hurting too.

8. I hope that you’re happy now without me.
But none of those ill-wishers are there anymore. I’m okay now. I’m trying to find happiness. I’m working my way back to a place of health. And I genuinely hope it’s the same for you.

I’m standing about a yard away from you as I write this. It hurts to know I can’t go up to you and talk to you, but I like seeing you laugh and talk to your friends. Even though I greatly wish I was one of the ones making you laugh, I understand that I no longer have the right to feel that way.

This is my final goodbye, I will not bother you anymore. I will not call or text your phone desperately awaiting an explanation I will never receive. 

I know you’re still angry. I can see it in the way you twist up your mouth when you see me. Do you think you’ll forgive me soon, if ever?

I’m sorry that we promised ‘forever’ to each other when we had no concept of what ‘forever’ meant. How can we blame each other for what we could never have possibly understood? We’re young, we’re clueless, we’re still growing.

We did the best we could to make it last. Sometimes the best isn’t enough.

I love you,
Antonique