I feel terrible being on this site in the first place. Don’t I have friends who will listen? It seems not…

We had a two-and-a-half year relationship, which was really rocky the last half a year. I had some of the best times of my life with you. There are more places I go, activities I do, and things I see that remind me of you than I could possibly count. We broke up in March. I thought I was over you. I don’t possess a single thing from you, other than an unmarked book and a sweater your mom got me for Christmas last year. I had blocked everyone having anything to do with you from all social media, deleted your number, and since I live 600 miles away now, thought I’d never have to deal with you ever again.

I decided recently that I’d unceremoniously unblock you. I wouldn’t reach out to anybody, but I’m not going to burn bridges anymore.

But I got drunk last night. I sent you a fairly long, heartfelt apology for the way our relationship had gone, the way I’d manipulated and controlled and ignored you. I left out the parts where you did the same to me so often, because that isn’t what’s important. I just needed you to hear that I was sorry. I said I didn’t expect a response, and I don’t, but I hope for one against all hope. I may write you a letter going into more detail and confessing other things that I have to confess, but I’m not sure.

Since reopening this wound, I’ve basically done nothing. I’ve f****** sat around all day, being a useless p************. I can’t bear these thoughts and feelings right now, but I’ve got nobody to talk about them with. The only person I could have possibly shared something this personal with, with any expectation that they’d understand, was you. This makes it much, much worse.

I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore, and I don’t think we should get back together (although a part of me still thinks that maybe we will eventually and it will be a beautiful romantic story), but I still have a spot in me wherein you reside and will never leave. I still hurt when I think of you, and I still smile when I replay our memories. I’ll miss going to Stratford Lake, I’ll miss when we’d visit each other’s campuses, I’ll miss our bike rides around Bullock Creek, I’ll miss days in downtown Bay City, and I’ll miss Hope.

I hope you’re living a happy life, but I wish I weren’t so jealous of it. Why can’t I have something perfect like us again?