I returned from the holidays, so ready for my apartment and my bed. I couldn’t find a notepad and that’s when I discovered a Valentine’s Day letter from my ex. He made it for me almost two years ago. That’s when I decided, I’m ready… I need to get rid of these letters underneath my bed. All those love letters, apology letters, I’m-not-giving-up letters, I’m-not-violent-I-want-peace letters, it’s fucking time to get rid of this shit. I don’t want my future daughter or son to come snooping in my things to find some bullshit letters from an ex that I am not in love with anymore.
It’s over, it’s done. It needs to stop.
My ex’s letters weren’t bullshit in his mind, he meant every word but as I reread some of them–I can’t believe I fell for it. So hard. That’s what upsets me. That I put myself in that position by living with him and that there was no way for me to see then. There was no way out, it was a cycle that would keep going. There was no exit for us at the time. How foolish I was to think that I couldn’t escape!
I read these letters that are love but most of them are trying to rationalize his actions. They repeat the words “I love you” but love is more than words. It’s a behavior. I read our inside jokes and the romance, but it’s not what I needed. I needed far more than fucking letters saying that I was loved and cared for. I needed safety, consistency and a healthy relationship.
I’m pissed that I tried so hard and it didn’t work. I don’t love him anymore. Part of me may always care and wonder about him, I wish him a healthy relationship not just with himself, or family, but a significant other.
Not a single fiber in my being wants him back. I wish I could erase him but that wouldn’t do me any good. I learned a lot from him. There were good memories there but it wasn’t enough. The love was not enough.