Work Text:
Dear 2@^3...
I don't know how you remember me.
I don't know how much significance I hold in your heart, and I don't know if it is in relation to hate, regret or acceptance.
I liked you, but I didn't love you. I couldn't trust you, you gave me no reason to. Maybe you did. Maybe your attempts to mend our relationship were genuine, but it never felt so. I still felt ignored. I felt as if I was no priority- a fly on the wall, who you would only contact when the loneliness got too much. You didn't take me out, you didn't buy me gifts, you didn't even talk to me in public.
But love is a two way street. I wasted your time and I'm sorry. I knew I didn't love you and I knew I couldn't see a future with you. Even then, I continued to respond to your advances. I continued to give you hope, but I never knew what of your words were honest. You only ever showed me a fraction of yourself. It felt as if you didn't want to trust me with anything.
I knew this all and yet I never articulated it fully. I guess I didn't understand what communication was. 'The key to a long relationship is communication.' I had heard it but everytime the sinking void reappeared I would run again. Instagram, snapchat, tiktok, Roblox, you would be blocked entirely, but moments later I would come crawling back. I knew you weren't good for me. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, all my thoughts were consumed by you. I only felt disfigured by your side, but I wanted to believe it could work. My first love, I thought it would be you. I should have known this naivety would only cause it all to fail.
I enjoyed being in your arms. I enjoyed talking to you, I liked our walks together. In the moment it all felt serene, despite the constant gnawing nausea and my racing heartbeat. Ever since year 7, our first conversation, I had liked you. This I hadn't realised until you had already become a different person. Even when I did realise that I liked you, I had no idea what that meant to me. I believed our eventual reconnection was fate, but I did not understand what it meant to 'like' someone, better yet love.
I liked you, ^&(". I don't know how much you liked me. You said you loved me on the 21st. I said it back out of formality, especially after what had happened, it would be revolting not to. I'm all the more revolted that I let myself lie to you like that. I'm sorry.
This is not a love letter. I'm sorry for what happend on the 21st. I sound insane for remembering the exact date, but how could I not. It was arguably the most traumatic events of my life. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. As I listen to your playlist right now, I can't help but wonder if I induced this rage. You let down your walls- let a girl, who you thought loved you, see you bare. I betrayed you. I betrayed your trust. Neither of us wanted to do it. You said it to me yourself later that week. I know you thought it's what I wanted, but I really didn't. I was only lustful. I let myself get blindsided by my own desires. I'm sorry, I should have told you in the moment. I shouldn't have let you believe that any of it was okay. It wasn't. We rushed it.
I can't act like I was the only one at fault, we both were. Never, before you made a move on me did you vocally, not clearly ask if any of it was okay. When you almost inserted without me noticing. I know when I talked to you about this, you acted as if I was overreacting, but I wasn't. Unprotected sex is way more detrimental to the woman than it is the man. You can run away any time you please. If you had really done it, I would be the one to live with the consequences. Days after the incident, my mum told me if I were to even get pregnant or have an abortion, I would be disowned. I told you this. Not an ounce of sympathy was spared towards me. My world around me had crumbled and my mum who I had placed as my pillar began to fall beneath my feet. I felt alone. I felt foolish. If you had really done it...
Both you and I should have talked. I would have expected you, as the boy with more experience, to guide me through, but it seems we were both foolish, maybe even cowardly. Just never assume anything ever again.
You and I are different people now. I love #\, but how unfortunate it is to be forced to face a reminder of both our shortcomings. I try not to look out, but even still, as I exit his house I can't help but look towards your window. A part of me wants to know how you're doing, but the other half is sick with fright. I don't want to make the same mistakes. I want to move on, but every visit I must inevitably be reminded of that day. It's hard to move on. I want to forgive you; I know I can't forget you, it would erase me of who I am. But even when I asked for empathy I was faced with coldness. It's been over a year since then, I can only hope you are a different person now. I must pray I entually accept and move on from the mistakes we made to change for the better.
In an ideal world we would be friends again.
I want you to treat 4££4 well. Don't ever make her question your trust in her. Be completely transparent, don't ever hide your intentions. Take her out, spend time, money on her, compliment her, love her, no questions asked, no begging for basic human decency. Always remember to ask for consent- don't mess it up.
I'm sorry. I want to be friends, I want to talk it over, but that would be the sacrifice of peace.
Our love is parasitic. It's best to keep the emotional distance,
From (4*·}