Relationships

Everything I Want To Tell The Guy I Never Wanted To Say Goodbye To

New Line Cinema

Even though I deleted your contact info, unfriended and unfollowed you from all social media and finally stopped talking to you, I still miss you and think about you all the time.

I constantly wonder where you are, what you're doing and who you're doing it with.

I do my best not to focus too hard on that last part because it makes me sick to think of you with someone else, considering the things you said to me while we were together made me believe there would never be a "someone else."

We talked about a future -- moving in together, getting a dog together and naming him Kai and who would get the right side of the bed.

You said you'd be my date to my brother's wedding, and you asked if I wanted to visit when your mom was in town so I could meet her.

We talked about the places we would travel to and the things we wanted in life.

You promised me that when we were 80, I'd know by the words you said and the kisses you gave that you were still as in love with me as when we first got together.

Maybe I'm the crazy one for believing you, but you asked me to trust you and I did.

I remember meeting you on New Year's Eve and feeling so excited for the year to come when we first started dating. I was in a dark place when we met, and you brought in some light.

Being with you felt different. For the first time in my life, I felt safe with someone.

I wrote you telling you how happy I was we met, quoting, “Sometimes, suddenly you just know -- it's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.”

I really wonder what happened to the guy I sent that first letter to, because he's been gone for a while.

You knew when we met that I was leaving California. You knew what that would mean if we entered into a relationship. You made me fall completely in love with you (my first love) and then you didn't catch me. What was the point of it all?

I sure as hell don't know.

I don't understand how saying things like “I don't think a lifetime of you being here would be enough," "We've got all the time in the world”and “But I'm not ever going to hurt you babe” turns into “If I hook up with someone, I do. You can too.”

I don't understand that at all.

For too long after we broke up, I kept talking to you because my world made more sense with you in it, even if it wasn't in a romantic way.

I missed you when we didn't talk, and so even though I was miserable when we did, I still preferred it over no contact at all.

I never quite figured out how to be OK with being just friends though. It wasn't possible for me to go from being what we were to being just your friend.

When you spend so much time building a hypothetical future with someone, you'll never truly be happy settling for anything less than that.

Not that I was ever really happy with the way things did end up either. Watching this relationship slowly fall apart over the past 10 months has destroyed me in every possible way.

The last time I said goodbye to you was at the airport.

You dropped me off after it had just stopped raining. Like a scene straight out of a movie, you hugged and kissed me as Meghan Trainor's “Like I'm Gonna Lose You” was playing on your car radio.

Saying goodbye to you that day was really hard for me, but you said it wasn't a "goodbye," it was an "until next time."

I really wish we'd gotten our next time, but cutting myself off from you is the only way I'll be happy going forward. So if you ever cared about me at all, I hope you'll respect that.

Just so you're clear: This goodbye isn't me leaving. It's you finally pushing me away.

Despite me still wanting to stay and wait for you to be ready, saying goodbye will allow me to put myself back together and start enjoying life again.

I'll always believe in our one day, even if you don't, but I can't wait any longer.

The last time I told you I was done, you asked me not to leave.

I wanted more but you weren't ready yet, but you still wanted me to stay. Please, I'm begging you, let me go this time.