I'm not sure how much I'm supposed to tell you. You tell me you miss me and that you care about you but I can't believe that's true. It's the most pathetic thing in the world to have this kind of self pity. The kind that breaks your world apart that you don't even know who you are anymore. I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had control of my emotions better than to let a girl knock the wind out of me like this. Where is my maturity? Where is my strength?
Is this what you want to hear? Do you want me to tell you that I'm over everything and that I can't wait to be friends?
You gave up on us when I needed you the most. I still can't understand how everything that we had meant so little to you that a week after Denver you had replaced it with someone else. What about all those things we talked about in Colorado? About coming back in the summer or going to musical festivals in Chicago? Or having kids?
I wouldn't even know where to begin to explain to you how I feel. Like Stevo told me, I shouldn't ask questions to things I don't want to know the answer to...maybe he's right. But I don't want to miss you like this, I don't want to have dreams and nightmares about you. I don't want to think about you a dozen times a day. This mental prison is driving me crazy. Here I am, two months later and sometimes it feels like I haven't made any progress. I just don't understand how we got here. I used to say that I would never want to be with someone who didn't want to be with me, but that's something someone says when they think they have it all.
You made me feel so good about myself, like I could do anything. I don't think either one of us knew what kind of void you would leave in my life after you were gone.