e,
I don’t know if this will matter to you now, or if it even needs to.
But I’ve thought a lot about how things ended and the way I responded.
At the time, I needed distance. Not to hurt you. Not because I stopped caring, but because continuing to care the way I did had started to feel like I was slowly turning against myself. I didn’t know how to stay without hurting myself further, and I didn’t know how to ask for space without feeling like I had to push you away.
Looking back, I can see that the way I expressed that boundary may have felt sharp. I won’t pretend it wasn’t. I was overwhelmed by my emotions and trying to contain them in a way that wouldn’t pull me back into something that left me questioning more than feeling understood. Still, I understand that you felt the impact of that, and I’m sorry for the way that may have landed or any pain it caused.
This isn’t about reopening anything. I’m not asking for anything from you. No pressure. No expectations. I just didn’t want silence to be mistaken for indifference. You mattered to me. All of it mattered.
I know now that I had feelings that made it hard to just be your friend. That’s something I’ve had to sit with on my own. I don’t carry resentment. I only carry appreciation for what we shared, even in the moments that were unclear or unresolved.
I understand why we needed space. I understand that going back to how things were wouldn’t make sense, and maybe it shouldn’t.
There’s no expectation or hidden hope in this, just acknowledgment. Just respect for what was, and acceptance of where we are now because this isn’t about rewriting what was, it’s about honoring it for what it meant, even if it ended. I hope you’re finding peace in your life and learning to see how deeply you’re worth loving, flaws and all.
May you find your own truth in these words.
May you heal, whether you think of me again or not.
May I love you enough to let you walk your own road,
while I keep walking mine.