First off. There is a part of me that will always miss you. I feel that I need to get that out of the way. In everything that has happened, and the fact that I never got any closure, there was no way in hell you would ever give me that, I do miss you. I will always love you. But I can’t love you. This might be the one chance I get to say what I need to say.
You told me that you wanted me to be able to speak my mind. You wanted me to stand up for myself and tell people off when they were being assholes. I don’t need to tell you that you put me through hell and left me there to die. On the day my cousin died, you told me to my face “I fucking hate you and I hope you die.” The day she died. When you knew how much she meant to me. Because I told you that you couldn’t live with me until our lease was up if you were going to threaten to kill me, or throw knives in my wall. You know you were abusive, and I won’t argue with you about it.
I don’t know what the worst of it is. I can’t sleep at night without feeling you lying next to me. I reach for your hand, and I know that you will never reach back. I wake up in the morning and I look over to where you should be sleeping, and I am in a different house, in the bed we used to share, but you are gone.
I don’t hear from you in months. I think I’m finally free, when you text me out of the blue that you need your adoption papers that you left in the apartment. I tell you that I don’t really live there anymore, but the next time I’m there, I’ll look for them. You ask me how I am. This might be my one chance at closure. I give you a small update.
I don’t tell you where I live. I tell you about the two suicide attempts. I say I have roommates. You probably know who they are. I tell you that there is a part of me that still loves you, but there is also a part of me that is still pissed at you.
There’s the worst of it. I know all of the awful things you did, and yet, there is a part of me that loves you. I’m caught between wanting to tell you that you almost destroyed me and not wanting to give you that much credit.
I’ll always feel emotional about this. I’ll never be able to be rational about it. I won’t apologise for seeing the best in you. I won’t apologise for speaking up about it. I won’t let you tell me that I can’t speak up about my own life.
There is a part of me that wants to ask how you are, if you are safe. When Pulse happened, I wanted to call you and make sure you were safe.
I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever will. That’s what hurts the worst. I want you to have a good life. I want you to get help and be safe and stable. I want you to get out of the cycle you’ve been caught up in. But I want you to let me go. Let me move on. Let me believe the next person that says they won’t hurt me.
I used to think this was my fault. I see all of the good potential in people. I believe people at their core have good intentions and they won’t hurt me. I loved you, and I know you loved me. I won’t ever feel bad for being a person that believes in the light in the world. You taught me to see magic in the every day, and I see it. It’s a beautiful light and I know that I will come out of this unbroken.
I hope you have a good life. I truly want that for you. I pray for your happiness like I pray for mine.