I loved you more than anyone in this world will ever love you. I crossed puddles for you and stretched myself across the oceans as far as I possibly could. There is no doubt that we are in different times of our lives, but that didn't mean an ending. It meant doing the work. All I wanted was for you to fight for me, but you gave up too soon.
In the end, you gave up nothing for us and I was sacrificing myself left and right. "I don't need you to be happy," was a sentence that meant independence for you, but it just confirmed that you will love no one like you love yourself. It meant you were never willing to make this work. As beautiful as it was, it was just not enough for you to fight for.
I was expected to know that you cared, and expected to know that things were okay, even though your actions and words never set that example for me. One broad action among a thousand missed ones supposed to ease my fear of losing you, and that is exactly what happened- I lost you.
But I don't feel sorry at all. I'm not sorry for loving you. I'm not sorry I had to work through my own things and they weighed too much on us, but I just needed one person to tell me it was going to be okay, and you never did. You told me to wake up and face the world, but you never told me I was going to be okay.
That's my fault, for relying on someone to reassure me that my life and purpose was valid because only I can do that for myself. And the second I told you, it didn't matter anymore- your mind was made up a long time ago.
I'll forget those blissful moments, but I'll remember you made me feel that way. I'll forget what never-ending pain feels like, but I won't forget that it happened. That I crumbled even when I thought I had nothing left to crumble.
Thank you for leaving me when you got scared that I was finally going to walk away from you. I'll think about you for years to come, but it's comforting to know that I don't actually miss you, I just miss the memories and routine we created what seems like lifetimes ago.