Dear M,

This is where it ends. I wrote to you, told you what I thought, and for a moment I thought you’d write back and explain a bit of it, put my mind at rest like you said you would. For a brief moment. That was over 6 weeks ago now…which leads me to think either I’m not important enough to you to warrant a proper reply or, like I suggested in the email, that there is not much of a possibility we can be friends in the near future and so what is the point in trying. You wouldn’t let our relationship be second-best for you or I, and I wouldn’t let what we had second-best anything we could have afterwards. I have enough friends, ones who care about me, and do love me enough to talk to me open and honestly about what they’re feeling. I don’t blame you, I think I just came too early for you in your life, wanted things you couldn’t give me, weren’t ready for, were perhaps alien and unknown to you. It wasn’t your fault I fell so madly, deeply, crazily in love that I couldn’t see any of it while it was happening.

I wish you well and I hope that one day in the future we do bump into each other and can be happy for one another, and look back on what happened and laugh that we ever thought it was more than it was. A brief blip of love in both our lives that enriched us, that I (and I hope you) really enjoyed, and that taught us both things we thought we would or could ever learn.

Once again, and for the last time, I love you (I do, still, and I suppose a small part of me always will), I forgive you, I let you go.

SJ x