I Don't Deserve You, I'm Sorry. And I'm Sorry For Everything, So I Guess This Is Goodbye

I really don’t know what I’m doing. This is probably the fifth time I’ve rewritten this and even if I manage to write what I wanted, I doubt I’d actually work up the nerve to send it. Despite that, I still write because I have yet to silence that stupid little voice telling me I’ll regret it if i don’t. It’s probably right, but then again it may be the same voice I listened to when I made the dumb mistake of trusting someone I shouldn’t have.

Don’t just take this at face value, please. I want you to take everything in . Not just the good, not just the bad. I know I said I wanted you to hate me and while that may have been true for that low point, it’s not now. Honestly, I’m not sure if I even meant it then. When I said I had learned to be okay with just me, I lied. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

Deserve. It’s a word I’ve heard a lot in the past four and a half years. It’s connotation has varied depending on who said it, of course, but I think the one that’s stuck was “You don’t deserve to be happy.” Sometimes, I try to convince myself it’s not true, yet I always go and mess it up. I mean, hell, look at what I did to people I care about all for my own selfish, deluded desires. And for what? Nothing. I got absolutely nothing from the deal except pain and seeing others suffer.

You and I hit it off from the start. From that first moment that I spoke to you and we found common ground. Since then, you’ve been there for me every step of the way. You’ve been there even when I pushed you away and I might not say it often, but I really am greatful for that. It helped me out of several sticky situations. After everything that’s happened, you might not believe me, but the whole reason I came back, the reason I spoke to you again, was to get closer to you. As I’ve said before, I had a crush on you even back before summer. I don’t know what I’m expecting by writing you this, and sending it, no less. Maybe  I’m too much of a coward to get a response. Perhaps I think this will put a band-aid on the gaping hole I’ve created. Probably both.

I’m just hoping for this fairy tail ending that I’ll never get. I guess I’m more naive than I originally thought.

Sorry for laying it all on you like this. I don’t even think this is everything I want to say, but at least it’s a start. I get it, I’m an idiot. Believe me, I know, I always have.

And I also know that it’s never going to be okay. I shattered our relationship into a million pieces and no matter how hard I try to put it back together, you’ll always be able to see the cracks. At least now you know how bad of a person I am. At least now I won’t lure you in again. It’s for the best, I suppose.

I’m done with hiding. I need to grow up and face my problems like an adult. So my first order of business is you. I’m not going to lie and say I don’t still love you. That’s why I couldn’t say it during the climax of the incident, but I’m also not going to say I expect you to want me back. I’m not sure what the full extent of those feelings was, though. There isn’t only one kind of love, afterall. Possibly, I was an idiot who mistook one type for another and then used that for my sick goal. Maybe I didn’t. Either way, at the end of the day I still used a friend that I cared about in an attempt to obtain the unreachable and in the end I was left with less than I had to start with. A lot less.

Sorry doesn’t begin to make up for this. I can’t make it right and life isn’t some cheesy movie where I can go back in time and make a better choice. If it were, this fiasco wouldn’t have had the means to happen in the first place.

For starters, I would have probably stopped my idiocy, or at the very least stop what happened when I first learned about you. The only problem then is that I wouldn’t have met you. And while that probably would’ve been better for you, I need you. I really do. I don’t know if you’ll even read this far. Knowing you, though, you will. Unlike me, you actually respect the emotions of people you care about, or cared, about.

Everything was real. All the things I told you, they were the truth. I got onto you for getting mopey, but the fact is, I got jealous too. I’m bad about that, but I never said anything because I didn’t want to be that girl. I also didn’t like seeing you toss aside other girls’ feelings because I’ve been in their shoes before. So when I decided to trust that nagging voice, I figured you could go to one of them. I thought there’d be no better way to make you hate me than to hit you where you were weak. It didn’t work. Why, I don’t know. I can’t forgive myself, so why would you forgive me?

So I failed. I failed at a lot of things, but I guess that’s okay. You’re free to do what you choose whether that includes me in any way, shape, or form or not. Really this letter was supposed to be an apology, I think. At this point, I’m just writing as it comes to me; no filter, no editing. So this it, what you see is what you get, as they say. Or I suppose in this case it’s what you read.

I just needed to get this off my chest. Kinda need the sleep, you know? Actually, I doubt this will ease my anxiety at all, but it still doesn’t hurt to let my emotions out every once in awhile. Consider this me venting to you. My bomb has been dropped, if you will. There’s still more I want to say, but I’ll save the heavier stuff for next time. If there is a next time, that is.

Guess. Another word I’ve heard a lot. It’s often used by me. It seems I’m always guessing, never quite sure of anything.

This isn’t the most coherent letter, I know. Nor is it easy to follow because I literally shut my door and did this in one go. I’ve considered writing to you telling you I’m sorry before, but I don’t know what to say to him that I haven’t said already. Plus, I doubt he’d read a letter this long from me. I’ll probably attempt it anyway because that’s what I do with my life. I write stupid little things full of emotions that I don’t understand and can’t control.

Is it bad that I still want to be close to you? I know you said you’d still be there for me, but you shouldn’t. I did something so terrible, you shouldn’t even speak to me. But of course you’re a self sacrificing idiot. An idiot that I fell in love with. An idiot that could’ve had a girl that wouldn’t have thrown him away at the smallest sign that she might have something to gain from it.

Goodbye is meant for lonely people standing in the rain, but no matter where I go it’s always pouring all the same. One of many lines I can relate with, I suppose it’s the same to you. Considering it’s raining here, this is applicable, is it not? I’m a lonely little girl with fucked up logic. All that I need is to let the rain wash away what’s left, huh? No. That’s not how it works. I have to woman up and get over it. It’s really the only way. I should wrap this up, I’m almost out of paper. On that note, I’ll say a few last things. First off, I apologize for still loving you because it means we can’t really be friends. Secondly, I didn’t originally intend for it to end this way, I suppose forever isn’t as long as I thought. And finally, I don’t deserve you, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for everything, so I guess this is goodbye.