Dear, Ex

It’s been a year and a half since we ended, and a month since I last saw you. You’re in pain; you never thought this day would come. I get it; I never did either.

The only thing is, now you’re feeling the distance, and you’re noticing the changes and what I fought so hard to avoid. You’re sensing a space between us that I have felt for years. Finally, you’re experiencing what I have been battling with, except I threw up my white flag and surrendered the day I realized this is not the kind of battle I want to be a part of.

Loving you was a beautiful kind of pain; it was a war I was never prepared for but happily wanted to be a part of because, to me, your love was worth any wounds I endured and scars I collected. Loving you was worth all the pain. But that’s because I was so starved for love to begin with.

I wish I could say that I still love you, and I wish I could say that I hate you. I never wanted you to feel the pain I felt; I only wanted you to feel my love. But you were deaf and blind to it.

I don’t miss you. I don’t crave you anymore, and nothing has ever set me more free. I finally have enough room for myself to be who I want to be and make the mistakes I need to make.

We were always far from each other, even while we lay in the same bed. There was always distance. You are finally feeling it now.

I think deep down you’re proud of me for finally letting you go. You knew how much I loved you was never acceptable, even if it was genuine. You didn’t expect me to be capable of letting you go, but I did, and I didn’t look back. I’m free.

All I wish for now is for you to finally be as free as I am.