P.,

I love you, you sweet fool. Nine months ago you said it was over. It's not though. It's not something you can just decide and make so. Love takes two and while you made a decision for yourself I will not abide by it. My choice is to love you still.

It's masochistic, it's madness, and beyond my control. I always was a glutton for punishment. It's not really a choice you know. I'm sure you actually do know. If I could choose to not love you I would. Heartless? I think not. I've experienced more pain and turmoil since I fell in love with you than I would have ever imagined possible.

You were my first love and you will be my last love. My one and only. It has nothing to do with melodrama. I'm not silly enough to believe I'm a Juliet to your Romeo. Lord knows that ended well, right?

The first time I met you, you scared the hell out of me. You were terrifying. You were sitting in the corner of JJ's couch in the basement. I had pranced in and flopped down on Stephen's lap with a bottle of peach schnapps in hand. Not exactly the most opportune first meeting was it? You were so quiet and intense. We'd been talking on the computer and over the phone but this was the first time we'd actually met face to face.

Talk about tongue tied!! I was positive you thought I was an absolute idiot. There are bad first impressions and the one I must have made.

But you didn't.

You are a series of perfect moments in my memory. The only perfect memories.

I remember watching GWAR with you in your room and how timid you were. Maybe timid isn't the right word, controlled? For the first time in my life I threw myself at a man, you. You turned out to be the most intensely passionate man I've ever known. VaVa Voom? Yes.

You gave me a blue candle and told me to think of you when I burned it. Then I had to get in my car and drive away. Too much of my life has been leaving you. Do you burn the candle I made you? You wouldn't believe how hard that was to make much less the mess that went into it. But I did it. I couldn't think of a stronger gesture than giving you the candle you gave me but new. It's certainly not blue anymore because I had to mix in other wax and remake it twice before I did it right.

You beautiful man. You've put up walls ten feet thick and I don't know what to do. You looked me in the face and told me not to let you do that. You told me to not let you go. Now? I don't know your heart because you've locked it up tighter than Fort Knox. At least you've locked it to me. I am trapped. I can't go forward and I can't go back. I want to continue reaching out to you but I don't want to bother you either.

You remember saying you wished we'd met when we were younger because you would've been healthier? I wish we'd never come back together when I was so freshly out of that abusive relationship. I wish we'd come together again while I was mentally healthy. I've tried so many times to explain what was wrong with me and I don't think I've ever made it clear but I don't think I ever can. I will say I allowed myself to be abused because I thought I deserved it and because I honestly thought after losing you it was the best that someone like me could get. I spent all those years blaming myself for leaving you and everything else and he blamed me for everything too.

That's why it hurt me so bad when you said I never take responsibility. One of my primary flaws is a guilt complex that tears me apart. I take responsibility for everything. It's a 'everything is all my fault' complex. You managed to undo months of therapy with that comment. Everything came crashing down and the cycle started all over again.

I am sorry. For everything I have ever said or done that has caused you pain.

I have said it so many times. Do you not understand that I mean it? With every cell in my body I sincerely regret everything.

Why can't you forgive me? I believe that in your heart you have held every mistake I've ever made against me. Though that could be my guilt complex rearing its ugly head. If you would just tell me what I could do to earn your forgiveness I would do it. I would do anything. I would literally walk five hundred miles, drop to my knees at your feet, and beg for your forgiveness. I kid you not.

You're absolutely everywhere. Do you realize that? I made spaghetti last night and the fact that I used Alfredo sauce reminded me of you because you don't like red sauce. I bought the Alfredo in the first place because it reminded me of you. Bizarre and true. No matter where I'm at in my home I remember being there with you. My computer? I only have it because you fixed it. Every time I wrap myself up in that beige, super fluffy blanket I think of you.

It's not like I'm intentionally sitting around pining. I try to exist. To go about doing whatever it is I need to be doing but you always come up. You are like my own personal ghost. Which would be awesome if it didn't hurt so much.

Time is healing no wounds. I am as raw today as I was the day you said it was over. I have tried to do everything right as far as letting go. I've tried expunging the feelings through journaling and these letters. I've tried talking to you, avoiding you. I've gotten active with my friends. I've dated other men. I've drank myself under the table. I've been crying every other day for nine months. I'll be perfectly fine all day, I'll avoid thinking about you somehow, and then go to lay down to sleep and bam. There you are.

Remember that rest stop in Iowa where we stopped to watch the sunset? You were so handsome. I still have a little heart tumble every time I look at the picture I took of you. You're in profile, wearing your glasses, and smiling. I started painting it actually. I never finished the painting. It's too hard. I also haven't been able to look at a sunset with anything other than disgust and a sense of loss since. Every day without you is a wasted day. A day we'll never have. It doesn't matter what I do or do not accomplish, I always feel that way.

When we met at my dad's house that first time after all those years we held onto each other and said it felt like home. I am homeless. Alone.