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My final goodbye. I kept making room for the possibility that there was something underneath your silence, your distance, and the walls you kept putting between us. I thought there was a reason you kept finding your way back into my life. I thought the moments we shared meant something to you, too.
I can't keep building a story around moments when your actual words and actions keep telling me to walk away.
I told you I loved you. Not because I needed you to say it back. Not because I was trying to force a confession out of you. I said it because it was the truth for me, and I wanted you to know it. Your response hurt me more than I think you'll ever understand. Maybe I needed to hear those words plainly, even if part of me had spent a long time hoping the story was different.
I spent so much time trying to understand what you felt that I neglected to ask myself what this connection was actually doing to me. I was looking for meaning in your silence, trying to make sense of your distance. I was always the one left with the questions and the hurt.
I can't keep waiting for a person who has told me to leave him alone. I can't keep ******* ****** trying to understand someone who has made it clear that he doesn't want to have this conversation with me.
I'm letting go. Not because I stopped loving you overnight, and not because everything suddenly means nothing to me. I'm letting go because I have to stop abandoning myself for the possibility that one day you'll see me differently.
I sincerely hope life is kind to you. I hope you find whatever peace you're looking for. I hope you heal whatever needs healing.
You don't owe me a different answer. I don't owe myself another year of questions. I love you, and I tried. That's all I can take with me.
This is where I stop reaching, stop wondering, and stop leaving the door open in my heart for someone who has asked me to walk away.
Take care.
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