I write you here instead

****,

In the beginning I remember I used to write letter and notes after a fight or during one of your avoidance separation. I would pour my heart out. Not knowing you’d never read them. Just assuming you’d want to know my feelings for you.
I still, to this day, write with you in mind in my journal. I’m working on stopping that. But a part of me thinks it’s normal and natural to write in a way you will or can expect someone to read one day. Even if it’s just a diary or journaling to yourself. What I have to work on is directing it to you.
Now that I am working with a professional, and trying to let go of all of my past hurt. Or at least learn a way to move on despite of it. I am realizing that a lot of the things I expected from you were not possible. You were not capable. And that’s not your fault. But there are a few things you could have done that you were capable of doing. And your repeated choice to not do it says something I have avoided wanting or trying or even thinking to say. Of all the names I’ve ever called you. All the shit I said when I was angry. I never called you a narcissist. I always believed it was too overused. Too “common” now to throw it out there. And definitely too serious.
It’s funny, just the other day I got to thinking to myself about somehow letting you know the conclusion me and my therapist came to. Then I pictured you googling the symptoms, and seeing me and my actions in them. That’s okay. I’ve even considered it and looked into it myself a time or two. But I was told, and believe, that the way I behaved after being pushed and pushed and used and used is in no way a reflection of my true nature.
Even with that being said, I still would like to apologize. I’m sorry for being so angry and resentful in the end. Had I been able to just walk away, I would have. I used to have so much love for you. So much I didn’t even know what to do with it. You walked on water and you could do no wrong. And it’s funny how the timeline looks now looking back on it. The less and less I felt that way, the less and less you were around. Which again just confirms (god I hate this phrase but it’s the best one that works) ..that I was a supply for you. The more and more I held you accountable for the hurt and lack of accountability you gave, and when I didn’t just brush it under the rug or forget it about it in my excitement and joy from finally being a together and around you again , the less you were around. The less effort you put in.
And I tried, I sunk my claws into you just as much as you sunk yours into me. I tried to change it. I tried to make you see the light. And I remember telling you something like “ you’re going to regret not putting in the work when I’m completely done one day and don’t love you anymore or even like you.” And you agreed. What I didn’t realize then was that you knew that all along, you knew that and didn’t care. You were going to get what you needed from me and when you couldn’t.. no loss for you. No sweat off your back. You continue to live your life guilt and shame free doing and getting all the things you’ve ever wanted and done. And I know now that’s not your fault either. It’s not okay. I’m not excusing it. But it’s part of the disorder you have.
If only there was a disorder called “Loving ****”. Then maybe we could find a cure for it. But I’m in remission. I’m finally seeing the light. Picking up the pieces of myself I lost along the way.
I do still grieve though. But it’s not us, the relationship or the future we could have had the most. I grieve the boy I knew and the man I thought he was. He didn’t die, he never existed. And that’s the saddest of all. I love and fought and was traumatized by a ghost. A phantom. Something never alive.
I wish you sincere and real joy in your life and future endeavors. May you learn to bring peace to all your relationships and know when to walk away to avoid hurting anyone you say or think or pretend to care about.

Regards,
*]%~>^£