Thursday, July 27th
I know I shouldn't feel sorry for moving on. I found out that love is a choice. I believe in the magic of falling in love, and I do believe that is largely due to chance. But staying in love, that is a choice. I chose you, God knows I chose you. I chose you through everything. Every time you questioned whether or not you loved me. Through each new life plan you made for yourself. Through everything that put me through. But I finally hit my limit. When you returned from boot camp, I was so excited to see you. I wrote this 12 days before you graduated, "I've decided that people spend too much of their lives being miserable. That is why I am going to take the happiness wherever I can get it, even if that means risking another heartbreak. So I am embracing the giddiness, the consuming excitement that you will be home in just two weeks, even if all you do is return and say you never want to see me again."
What happened was even worse than that- you didn't speak to me at all. A few messages thanking me for the letter I sent you and the message I had your sister give to you at graduation. But that was not enough. I told you in that letter that life sucked without you. I told you how much I missed you, how much I was still in love with you. It was riddled with tears; you read it, and you didn't respond. I understand no initial response, you were at boot camp after all. But nothing once you were home. You told me "you liked it," and that was all. And the message I left you after your graduation? I called you baby. I called you honey. I told you I loved you. I told you I was proud of you no matter what I was in your life, or what I would ever become to you. And you texted me briefly, treating me like an old friend from high school, not the girlfriend that you loved and planned a future with for two and a half years. You told me you were tired (again, very understandable) and that you would text me tomorrow. But tomorrow came and went, and nothing. Ten days of staring at my phone, making sure it was constantly charged and in sight just in case you called. But nothing. You left without saying a thing. And that was when I decided that I have to stop loving you.
It was too painful to sit and wait for something, anything to hold onto. And I shouldn't feel sorry for that. I shouldn't feel like I "could have been stronger," or that I "could have held on longer." The fact is, you broke me. I would have given anything, absolutely anything, to be with you, and you couldn't even give me a phone call. So no, you cannot contact me another month later and tell me you're still madly in love with me. Madly in love would have been racing to see me the second you got home. At the very least, it would have meant heartfelt messages, responding to the words I had given you. There's no excuse for that silence, and that is why I chose to let go. You had me, I was so yours to keep. All you had to do was hold onto me, and you didn't. So I stopped holding on, too.