More than a relationship, if we are honest, you and I had an armwrestling match. We pushed our worldviews, our agendas, our values, but we got stuck on a standstill, right in the middle. No winners nor losers, just mediocre bystanders of a childish battle. So here I am now, with you gone and lost somewhere out there; with my right arm up in the air, hand clenched in a fist, waiting for your imaginary hand to push the other way. There’s no hand, of course. Just the resistance I became used to.
I rarely remember our good times together, without soon finding myself in this dark place of anger and resentment. Whose fault is it, now? Not yours, for sure. You took my silence as the definitive end and moved on with your life. Whereas me, idiotically, remained bouncing against the walls of this post-breakup self-imposed imprisonment.
But enough introduction. I’ll be brief: I hereby forgive you, C. Here in the distance of space and time, whatever bad blood against you does nothing but hurting. So here it ends. I’ve done my inner work and you have remained in the fog of war, hidden away, perhaps doing yours. We’ve both done our part and we have finally come to the very end of the road of “us.” We are now free.
I sincerely hope you are well, and wish you the best. I don’t think you hurt me on purpose, anyway. And, although my idea of love never quite matched yours; I believe you loved me in the way that’s unique to you. I’m grateful for that, and for having had the times we had. Intense and never dull. Passionate beyond anything I’ve experienced before or since.
History will judge us. The memories we have left, spread in the hive mind of humanity, will be dissected and analyzed in the corresponding zeitgeist of those days to come. I’m done with taking part of that. This burden has been too heavy on me, as these hundreds of pages and thousands of words I’ve written have portrayed. But enough is enough, right?
As you said, one never stops caring for those who were important to us. We will continue to love them in their own particular form, as they all have been nonpareil in themselves, at least to us. So, needles to say, my love for you will never die. Even if just a drop of it, it’ll be with me until the day I die. There’s beauty in it, don’t you think? Despite the drama, the pain, the violence; we will be forever tied by this invisible thread of the love we once shared.
I know this all sounds corny, cliché. Too well-intentioned for it to be believable raw, human emotion. But it’s really not. The peace I’m experiencing for letting go feels significantly more selfish rather than selfless. I am free now, of this damn dead weight I was carrying around for so long. Wish I had done it sooner. But maybe it’ll be more of a lifelong learning this way. Who knows?

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