I think I’m coming to terms with the fact that this isn’t my responsibility anymore. It’s not my cross to bear, it’s not up to me to shoulder the weight of waiting for you. I don’t need to put in the effort to make every facet of my life exactly what you would want it to be, holding onto the nonsensical hope that one day it’ll make you come back. One day it’ll click. One day you’ll get it. It’s supposed to be me; it’s supposed to be us.
That is not my job, and to spend another day doing so would be working towards an unachievable goal. Futile. I give up.
I give up the past 365 days of trying to make this work. Trying to make this something. Trying to hold on. Trying to exist solely in the past in hope that it would get me through till the future looked something like my memories.
I can rest in knowing that I have loved you unconditionally. I have loved you without any semblance of reciprocation or care for the past year. I have loved you and made you the sun, and you did not deserve that for even one second.
So the tears you cry are in vain. The moments you spend feeling sorry for yourself, wishing someone would love you unconditionally, see every messed up side of you and adore them all the same—that’s been here this whole time. But starting right now, it is not.
365 days is far too much time to give you to realize you made a mistake.
Still, you never did. You never looked back with regret, but instead of feeling like that is my own shortcoming, my own loss, I know now that it is only yours.
So enjoy the rest of your life. Enjoying living in search of something you could’ve had so easily. Fall in love with 100 girls and I promise they will not be there like I would. And if you couldn’t see that then, you don’t deserve to now.
So, this is a year too late. But this is goodbye.