And I open it.
Erin,
I’m sorry to do this to you.
I swallow just at the first line, and tears already prick my eyes, because I know now that whatever follows that sentence is going to hurt me.
There are many things I wish for in this world, and I could write a five-page letter if I detailed all of them to you, but I’ll save you the boredom. All you really need to know is that what I wish more than anything is that I would have met you in a different time in my life.
Whether it was before the car accident or ten years from now when, hopefully, I’ll actually have my shit together, I just wish it was different.
As it is now, I’m no good for you.
I’m no good for anyone.
The tears blur my vision so much I have to look up at the ceiling and force a breath before I can keep reading.
I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re an enigma, a light so strong I couldn’t help but be drawn to you from the start. I knew I should have resisted, which was why I blew you off that first time I was supposed to take you out. But then I saw you again, and I just couldn’t tell myself no.
I’ve been living in this fairytale with you, in this place where I pretend like I’m okay and that you’re the answer to all my prayers and that we’re good together. It’s why I touched you that first night outside of the poetry bar. It’s why I soaked up every minute of our trip together. But something happened on Valentine’s Day that struck me back to reality.
You trusted me enough to give yourself fully to me, even after what happened to you.
And I realized that I didn’t feel the same.
I’ve been so eager to take all your scars and mend them, to hold you and bring you peace, but I haven’t been willing to let you in to do the same for me. I can barely talk about what happened with my sister, let alone the myriad of other things in my life that you have no idea about.
To be blunt, I’m fucked up, Erin.
And I can’t be with you.
A sob racks my chest so violently that I slap a hand over my mouth to try to soothe it, my tears splotting the blue ink on the notebook paper when they fall. I squeeze my eyes shut and compose myself as best I can before reading further.
I know it won’t make a difference, because even now, reading this far, I know I’ve hurt you. But I want you to know that it’s not just you. It’s everything — school, work, life.
I’m not okay, and I’m finally admitting it.
That’s why I’m voluntarily checking myself into a treatment center.
I think about killing myself every single day, Erin. Sometimes multiple times a day. And as much as I care about you, I can’t submit you to this. You don’t deserve it. In fact, it’s because I care about you that I’m doing the right thing in letting you go.
I’m a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off, and I won’t let you get caught in the wreckage.
I know this is all hard to read. And I know I’m breaking your heart. I won’t even ask you to forgive me for doing it. All I ask is that you keep that beautiful spirit of yours and that you go on and live your life to the fullest, because that’s what you deserve.
Thank you for sharing your light with me.
I’m sorry I dimmed it.
Take care of yourself,
Gavin
“Take care of yourself?!” I repeat incredulously, staring at the letter in my hand. The longer I stare, the more I re-read, the angrier I become.
My chest starts to ache, and before I realize it, I’m breathing like a dragon, each pull of air thick and heavy before I blow it through my nose. And when I hit that last line again, I scream, letting everything out while I viciously tear at the paper until it’s a shredded mess on the floor at my feet.
That fucker.
That motherfucker.
How selfish of him. How fucking narcissistic to try to make it seem like he’s some hero, like he’s doing me a favor.
I’m still seeing red when I grab my purse off the kitchen island and swing out of the condo, slamming the door behind me. I’m in the elevator and then in my car and peeling out of the garage before I even realize where I’m heading.
But as soon as I hit the highway, my anger dissolves into thin, smoky wisps.
And in its place, all I feel is devastation.
Tears well in my eyes so fast I can’t stop them from falling, but I’m not crying, I’m not sobbing, I’m not breaking down. It’s just a silent, heartbreaking release of emotion, my eyes still wide open and focused on the road as the tears shed themselves.