Dear Tess,
I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, hell, I don’t know if you’ll ever even see this - but that makes no difference. I have to say it, write it, finish it. For once in my life, I need closure when something ends.
I haven’t spoken to you in three months, maybe more. The date of the airline tickets I had purchased to come visit you have come and gone. In that time, I have started going to therapy, moved home, gotten a cat, and had my appendix removed. I have also gotten more depressed. I have withdrawn from people and started seeing them as a threat. My walls have become higher and thicker; I’ve become more closed off.
This is not a letter to just tell you how much you fucked me over, but to help me figure things out and move on.
Since you left, my trust issues have gotten much worse. I don’t know that I want to trust people again. It’s like my friendship with you was the final straw.
I told you my mantra - “I’ll give people a chance, sometimes even a second. But never a third, because after making a mistake once it’s no longer a mistake - it’s a choice.”
Knowing this and my past you still took my friendship and trust for granted and I got very hurt in the process. At some point you have to realize it’s not okay to just walk out of someone’s life with no explanation. Or just to walk out of someone’s life, period. Yet, you have. Twice.
I know you say it hurts you. But it hurts me, too. Very badly. I feel like I did something wrong; something to end the friendship. Something to make you not want to be my friend. And that I must have done that in the past. That there must be something wrong with me. So, my trust issues start fusing with my self-esteem issues. But I need to accept that these issues are not me - they never were.
I need to let it go. Let you go. Let this friendship go.
You taught me a lot. And while we were friends I had a great time, and I will always have my memories — and pictures.
I wish things had ended differently, and I wish that things were easier for me to let go. But that’s not the case. That’s not the hand life has dealt. So, we must play the hand life has dealt, and move on.
So overall, I suppose this letter is to say goodbye.
A way for me to let go.
Good luck. And farewell.
