This may be the last letter I write to you. I still don’t know if they were good ideas to begin with, but now, I feel like they may be aiding me in avoiding letting go. I felt like I had a choice in that… I’m not sure why, because obviously none of us did.
You left so many unanswered questions. So many things unsaid. To everyone. I hate you a little for that. I wish you’d been able to be open. With yourself, mostly, because I think you never were.
I will always miss you. I may never get over this. People look at me funny, and disagree, but I do feel like it’s a very real possibility that I will never trust anyone enough to love fully again.
But writing to you makes that more likely. It makes me feel connected to something that doesn’t exist anymore… If it ever did. So I think I need to stop.
I don’t want you to be gone. But you can’t always get what you want, right?
I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re not in pain. I hope there’s an option for me to see you again sometime. I can’t trust that there is… But I hope so.
With love forever,
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