Letter to You

Some feelings I had to write down. The only issue is that writing is never "real" to me unless someone reads it, and I need this to be real.

Chapter 1

Dear Ex,

Dear Ex,

There are some things in this world that you will always regret, no matter if you've accepted the past and moved on. I regret the things I did to you not because I miss you, or want you back in my life, but because I should not have done them. It is the simplicity of morals. I should have been willing to talk things out, work with you; I shouldn't have closed the door to my heart and my mind and refuse to let you in when you came knocking to find out it I was going to be okay.

The truth is, I wasn't going to be "okay." I was changing. Through some mystery that I do not understand, I was changing. I was growing up. Going to a new school, making new friends, and becoming an adult. I was learning how to become a being independent from the world of a school child. I was becoming a creature of honesty, independence, and determination. I was learning new ideas, philosophies and skills that would change the way I looked at the world. I was becoming bigger, more outgoing, more of a people person, more daring.

And you hated it. I could see it in your fleecy blue eyes when I gestured largely and told you what I did that day. You didn't like that I was experiencing so many new and wonderful things. You did not like that I could be happy without you.

I had plans to travel- I wanted to go to college. You wanted to take a factory job in this crummy pork-producing town and raise a family. There is nothing wrong with wanting a family to care for and love- I want one too, but not the kind you want. That's the issue. We were headed two separate ways in life and neither you nor I could stand to lose our dreams. I did not care to be stuck in this tiny town as a housewife, depending on you, and you did not want to join me in my successes. It's that simple.

My ambition for the future drove me to resent your wholesome values. I became proud and haughty, knowing that I was going to be "better" than you- perhaps I shouldn't have let this pride talk me into shutting you out of my life and my plans, but I did and certainly don't want to change it. I don't want to step on your plans anymore than you want to wrangle mine down. I feel bad, of course, that I was so proud, but I still want to go places in life. Those dreams and plans are still the beating heart of my existence and I aim to achieve them.

Maybe it would have worked, if I had been willing to talk about why I feared staying with you would change my life from a budding story of adventure to a bleak tale of living in this stupid town. Maybe it would have at least allowed us to leave on friendlier terms. I should have let you in, but I didn't. I did not want to talk to you, but I also didn't want to lose you. I liked that you loved me, but I didn't love you. I liked you a lot, cared for you yes, but to me- love is a commitment, love is steady and forever, and I did not see forever in us. So, yes it was good that we never made it because both of us would have been truly unhappy later, but it shouldn't have ended with burned bridges. I shouldn't have ignored you.

We were so young. Not even 17 years old. I never doubt that I liked you. I never led you on. We were so young.

And never, don't ever, disrespect my father's religion again. I may not agree with him, and you may not agree with him, but I have made a point to hate those who speak a snake's words about him with other high and mighty heads of churches behind my back. Feel free to ask me questions about my father's religion. I will always answer kindly. But don't ever, ever, ask someone else just because they hold a position of power in a church. They don't know the answers. They will only give you the neighs of their high horse. And soon you'll bray like them- you did- I remember it. You could have asked me, but you didn't. Don't ever, ever disrespect my father's religion. Ever.

I made my share of mistakes. Mostly shutting you out. But you were wrong too. Instead of trying to figure out how my father's religion drove rifts in my family, maybe you should have asked me. You didn't have to understand. You just had to listen. I hate you for trying to force church back down my throat. I couldn't handle it then, and I can't handle it now. Get out if you're going to preach at me. And don't come back.

And maybe you could have comforted me when I was sitting under that bridge crying. An arm? A hug? Yeah, I know we were already falling at that point, but if you wanted to save us, maybe you could have tried. I wouldn't have been opposed to making things right when I was breaking. But you were either too awkward, or you were relishing my pain, hoping I'd ask you to save me. But I didn't. I just sat there and cried and you just sat there and watched.

When we would walk in silence, you claimed that they were never awkward because we love each other, but they were always awkward. SO I chattered meaninglessly to fill such silences because I thought I loved you and didn't want either of us to have to bear the unbearable silences.

There are somethings I miss; the way the neighborhood came together. Sledding. Wondering if you were ever going to kiss me. The way you looked at me. But my family- they knew something was wrong. Not with you, but with our situation. You never loved my family, never even bothered to know them. You ignored my sisters- my little rays of sunshine. I suppose I did the same thing to your family. They were scary too me, and annoying. Loving the other person's family is a part of loving them. Neither of us could do that.

It was both of our faults things didn't work. I'm glad it didn't work. We're different people with different lives. You changed me. Made me a better person- not just after the relationship, but during. I hope I changed you for the better. And I hope you find someone else. I have, and I love him more than anything. The only issue, is that you come creeping back into my mind. Not because I love you still, but because of bitter resentment. I don't know where it's coming from, but it's there, all that resentment.

The reason I'm writing this is because I want to get you out of my head. I want to stop overthinking things when they're over. We both made mistakes, but something was wrong with the idea of "us" from the beginning. It is good that things didn't work out. But I just can't stop thinking because when it ended, it didn't end slowly. It was long and painful and there was much wondering about how the other felt and you never knew why I had to go. Why I had to slowly break away from you, our relationship deteriorating as I morphed into a being that you did not know. You never knew that I blame me just and much as you, or that I have completely come to terms with the fact that it just wasn't supposed to work. I am writing this because I want to forget you forever and to put an end to the resentment I carry within me.

And if I write what I know is right, it becomes real.

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