25 days

Dear you (I don't know what else to call you),

The real you has chosen to leave. You've decided that my faults have overcome my good traits and that you're tired of doctoring me. I can't argue much, because I agree, truth be told. I'm tired of doctoring me too. Yet, now I'm left with myself and an imaginary you. One who still listens to me and babies me.

Do you know that I still don't know how to feel, or how to deal with anything?

I was standing on solid ground, and it disappeared. So I don't know how to feel but lost. I'm sorry to remind you of this dear, I'm sorry to bring up anything bad we could have told each other, but you've told me you never mattered to me. I believed it like I believe anything you tell me. I told myself the classic lines of how utterly impossible it was for me to have true affection for you and went and did the one thing you hated me to do, the one thing I pathologically enjoyed doing before I met you. If I hadn't changed, why did I not enjoy it? Why did you constantly appear in my head, even though I was more intoxicated than I probably ever was? Is this a dirty game of yours, to haunt me to my ends? Why did you have to not understand me like that? Why did you have to make me feel like the opposite of everything we've tried to make me together? Did you feel I hurt you too much to deserve being left with anything good you gave me? I'm so sorry to admit this to you now. You've ceased to try to understand me, and therefore will interpret this as ''typical me'', ''the deliberate mess in my brain that's as messy as my bedroom'', and I can't blame you dear, It's too much to ask of a human being to understand further.

I still don't understand, though. How can you invest a year in someone and then leave like that? Did you see yourself withdraw? Did you see how it looked like? The one I had feelings for must have at least had some guilt. We were an inch away from perfection, and you decided to take your toy box and leave. Did you ever think of it that way? Do you honestly wholeheartedly believe I haven't changed the least bit? Why do you see my faults as strengths while they're downright weaknesses? You and I know that. We know it like our names and our favourite songs and people. Why did you not think of that?

I still don't know what colour to want my hair to be. I didn't stop dying it black because you liked it black. What is it supposed to be now? Where's my favourite spot on earth supposed to be, now that our place together is supposed to be meaningless? And what the hell should I do with the raisins I bought you? How should I feel about raisins in the first place? Who should I escape to, dear? And why is imaginary you so silent? Who should I talk to when I get a nightmare? Who, after you will tolerate with staying on the phone until I fall asleep again? Who should be my escape and my comfort zone? Who should I count a million times when I count my blessings? Should I hate the way my hands look again, now that I should pretend you never existed? And all the music we loved together, that was all I listened to, what should I listen to now? Where am I supposed to get a new taste in music? When I'm in situations where I feel unwelcome or unloved, you naturally won't be there, so does this mean I should hit the wall or swallow rat poison for all you care? I don't know how to feel, love. I can't feel like a victim here, I can't let myself mourn the loss, it was all my fault in the first place and I took your tolerance for granted. I can't feel guilty either, it's a dead ended feeling and brings the regret on, too. Anger isn't an option, the only one I have to be angry with is myself. I wake up every day wanting to see you and erase that feeling, I look for another to replace it with and find nothing, just a huge space of being lost and empty and unimportant. An extra to my already existing suffocation.

I'm not finished yet, I still have so much more to tell you. I'm just tired trying to translate my suffocation into words.

Goodnight
Love,
Me