I burned the love letters
I burned all the letters you gave me, J. Watching them burn felt like cremating the years of love we shared. I can’t bring myself to look at those letters anymore. Even their silhouette made me cry. I can’t keep holding on to the past.
The ashes of your love now sit on my kitchen counter. I even breathed in some of the ashes, hoping I could keep a small part of your love inside my body.
I don't deserve someone who is hot and cold. For some reason, the things that are bad for me are what I find attractive. When I didn’t have your attention and had to fight for it, it felt like a game to win you back. If I’m being honest, it made me feel miserable more often than not. I was not made to play this game.
I was watching a video of you sitting in your car, smoking. That was a turn-off for me too.
You were turning into someone different from the person who loved me over the last two years. I didn’t want the sweet boy who was always there for me to become someone hardened by the influence of his friends. When I heard the sentence, "You can tell a lot about a man by the friends he keeps," it really made me think. I always struggled with the character of your friends, but I never felt it was my place to say anything at all. You are your own person.
Moving on with my life feels so strange. I feel lost and lonely. I feel like I may never truly move on. This hurts more than death.
I hope you're happy with your decision. Because if you're not, a part of me knows I would come back to you in a split second.