Forget me not
Those weren't your words
I'm home haven't you heard the ring?
The sound of my voice
I know it isn't much
That's why I say your name
When I fall, when I hit the bottom
say your name
When I fall, when I hit the bottom


Dear [your name here],

It's been a long time since we talked, but I want you to know, I think about you almost everyday.  Sometimes this burdens me, because I've tried my best to move on from the past and when you cross my mind, it slows me down.  Even if it is for just moments, the thought of you can turn my day upside down.

We had some pretty rough times together, but we had good great times, too.  I will always remember the first time we hung out alone, and watched The New Guy.  Or rather, didn't watch The New Guy.  We sat on the couch, laughing and talking the entire night.  There was a huge snowstorm, remember?  You drove ten miles in your little Ford Tempo to pick me up, and on the way back there was a whiteout, and we couldn't see three inches in front of the car.  It was dangerous and scary, but you made it bearable.  It took an hour to drive back to your apartment because you were going so slow, but you kept me safe, and it didn't stop for years.

I've told you most everything I've ever wanted to say to you, although sometimes I wish I could take it back.  I don't like to feel like the pathetic vulnerable one.  In this situation, there's no way around it.  At the end, it all came down to how vulnerable I was.  I didn't want to let go of what we had, but I couldn't trust you.  You broke my heart so many times, and every time you would tell me you were sorry, that you loved me but you just could never stop cheating on me treat me right, the way I deserved.  I never understood it.  Why was it so hard for you to just love me, and only me, and not betray me?  Why couldn't you just be a man tell the truth?  Why did you have to find other girls women, but claim I was the only one?

I still don't understand it.  I know sometimes things were difficult.  We struggled a lot.  Your Our parents weren't the best of the lot.  We weren't rich.  I had emotional problems you couldn't handle.  You were an asshole had anger issues that you didn't want help with.  Instead of working with each other, we worked against each other.  We could have fixed so many things had we just been a team.  We chose to butt heads though, and here we are now.

I have a new love in my life.  He's wonderful.  He drives me nuts sometimes, but he's always there for me.  It's been a year since we've been together, and I couldn't be happier.  He is exactly the opposite of everything you were.  The type I always claimed I would never, ever be involved with.  But he has been the best for me, and I love him more than anything.  At one point, I thought I would never love anyone like I loved you.  I spent three years single, mingling, going out and trying to forget everything about you.  For one of those years your unexpected phone calls and text messages interrupted my life at times when I thought we were done forever.  You missed me, you wrote a song for me, you couldn't stand the thought of me having sex with another guy.

Maybe that's why you chose to never talk to me again.  I know it is for the best, but I never thought that it would be permanent, and that we would no longer spontaneously appear in each other's lives.  I thought we could be at least friends.  Not best friends; not even friends that talk periodically.  Just friends that, every once in a great while, drop each other notes, say hi, how are you, hope things are good.  I want to tell you that now.

I want to tell you I hope you are happy.  I hope that everything you ever wanted is on the verge of breaking through.  I'm sorry, not for you, but for me, because I would have liked like to see you experience these things.  I supported you and your music, and I liked loved being a part of it.  I'm sorry that I'm missing it, after everything I invested in it.  I hope that I cross your mind sometimes, too, because then I wouldn't be the only one with regrets doubts.

I still have all of our pictures.  I still have our couple's memory book, filled with all the facts about us.  I still have the letters you wrote me, and I found the letters I wrote you.  I never knew you gave them back to me.  I can't bring myself to throw them away, because maybe one day, I'll be able to look back and say, "That was my first real love heartbreak, and I learned so much from it." 

The title of my blog is taken from a song that we sang together all the time in high school, back when we were just best friends.  Back when we were happily dating other people, and life was good normal.  I'm sad when I think about it, because maybe that's how we should have kept it.  Maybe we would still talk, to this day, and I'd be able to see you play music again, and we could talk about old times.  That can't happen, though.  You won't let me in again.  It's probably for the best.

My friends don't understand why I am so sensitive about you.  They shouldn't.  They will never know.  They will never know the heart ache I feel when your name comes up.  They don't understand why I don't want to see your new girlfriend's picture.  They probably think it's because I'm jealous, or pathetic.  That's not it, though.  "Why does it bother you so much?  Just get over it." 

She was our friend.  You brought her into our life, innocently, and I was stupid naive.  I thought you two just worked together.  She was getting married to her high school sweetheart.  I never thought anything of it. 

I should have known better.  I should have known by how upset  pissed she got when she found out you were still talking to the girl you cheated on me with.  I remember when I confided in her she was so mad.  She took you outside, and I thought it was because she was defending me, as her friend.  I believed she cared about how it made me feel.

I was so, so wrong.  She didn't want you to talk to her anymore because she wanted to be sure you wouldn't do the same thing to her.  She was making sure you wouldn't fuck her over treat her like you fucked me treated me.

My letters to you were always long and drawn out.  You always said you liked them.  I wonder if you would like this one.  I'm guessing not.  I'm guessing it would make you mad, because you knew it was right.  Or maybe, you've grown up, like I have, and it wouldn't make you mad; it would make you sad.  I used to get mad at you all the time, even though we never spoke.  Now, I just feel remorse and loss.  It is as if you are dead to me, even though I know you are alive and healthy and thriving.

I wish that I could admit these things to you, just to get them off my chest.  Just to have it be known, yes, I still think about you, and yes, I have moved on, but you left a permanent imprint upon me.  I just want for it to be something I can forgive.

I can't forgive you yet.  Which means I can't forget.  How can I forgive you, when you never apologized, when you never showed remorse except when you wanted sex something?  How can I forget when I'm reminded every time I listen to my favorite band, also one of your favorite bands?  How can I forget when everything I do now, is all in contrast to what I would have with you, and on purpose?  I won't make the same mistake five times twice. 

I hope you are happy.  I hope she was the right choice.  I hope that you make it someday, and that your dreams come true.  Maybe one day I will see you again, and when our eyes meet, we'll know, we'll just know, that this is how it is supposed to be.  I will know that you are sorry, but it was for my benefit, and we are both better off. 

Sincerely,
Me