I Tried To Show You What True Love Was, But In The End, It Was Never Enough

I know I know, you’ve told me many times, you don’t want to hear from me. But I think there was way too much left in the unsaid, and I don’t think you took it too well when I left without an explanation. I understand, as I always have. 

I do have some important things to tell you, though. You were an extraordinary love, but you weren’t always mindful of others. You forgot that in your quest for perfection, you had pushed me to reach exceedingly high and unreasonable expectations. And when you knew I couldn’t reach them (because no one has and no one can), you still felt so much unjustified anger—simply because I wasn’t the person you hoped I was, I wasn’t the person you wanted me to be, and I wasn’t the person who could save you from yourself. 

You are so utterly annoying. You break my heart every day, just to come right back, apologize, and pretend that we are fixed, whole, and fine again. You spin lies in my head, filling them with hopes and dreams, persuading me with a mouth full of “I love yous” and forever. “As long as we try,” you always said, and “As long as we’re together, we can accomplish anything.” You always half-heartedly told me that I was what you wanted, that I was everything you needed, and yet, here we are in this broken state. You still fell into temptations, you still wanted more options, and you still chased after other people just for the excitement and the thrill. 

When did you ever consider how I felt? Or the consequences, or even asking for my input whenever you felt lost. Something in your actions told me that you never cared at all. 

You have only ever cared about yourself. I realize that now, and it took quite some time because you’re very convincing, though you don’t even realize it yourself. I hate it, because the whole reason I fell in love with you, and the whole reason I loved you, was because you were a kinder and more compassionate person than I thought I was at the time. I thought that you were someone “different,” and this is not because there were some blatantly obvious qualities you had that marked a distinction between you and others, but I think I liked how you cared and deeply wanted to help people. Like I’ve already said, it took me quite some time to realize that the affection and care you give is not out of selflessness, but purely because you don’t know any other way to feel accepted, appreciated, and loved.

I have fallen head over heels for you, and you made sure of that. But in return, you treated me horribly because I’m the only person who can weather your storms and your insanity. Over the last few years, we have built a sense of comfort and trust, but you abuse that by being the worst possible version of yourself; you know I can’t leave no matter what you do. 

I hate that. I hate that we’ve become so comfortable to the point that you stopped trying to be a better person. 

The lies you told me, the never-honest half-truths, were they really to protect me as you’ve always said? Because in reality, I think your deceitful nature is because you crave self-protection. You were so afraid that the one person who you felt a desire and longing for could actually leave. You never considered the fact that I’m independent too, and I can make decisions that do not regard you. I stayed through every single damn thing you put me through, and near the end of it, it was not because I loved you anymore—it was because I had to.

In between this mess, there was so much love, and yes, I do know that you loved me. But you hate feeling any emotions related to love, because I know you, and I know that there is a sense of shame that comes from desperately wanting something much more than yourself. It involves putting yourself out there, and in your eyes, it can feel shameful to ask for something you think you do not deserve. I’ve always hated this trait about you because you can never ask for what you want no matter if it’s big or small—recognition, praise, or if it even comes down to it, me. It is so hard for you to even let yourself want good things. 

Although I know this about you, it feels like you’d much rather lose me or permanently damage everything about us than admit that I’m what you’re looking for. I’ve tried to encourage you and remind you so many times, even when we’re both at our breaking points, that you can always tell me anything. But even constant encouragement and reassurance don’t seem like enough; you pushed me away each time. I felt worthless because you made me feel like I didn’t deserve your time or attention. When in reality, you were the one who felt that. 

Something about you reminds me of scars. I think you’ve internalized a lot of the experiences or hard lessons you had to go through, except you’ve learned to blame yourself in the process. People have left unrepairable scars on you and wounds that will never close because you constantly reopen them just to remind yourself of what you’ve done wrong, rather than how you can improve. 

I can’t remind you any more than I already have. I have always accepted your scars, but it hurts and it’s painful to watch you continuously bleed in this repetitive cycle. I think you’re the only person who can’t or refuses to realize that you can stop. I don’t think you realize that you’re not unbreakable, even though growing up you’ve always been forced into situations where you’ve had to be tirelessly strong.

Although I’ve always thought that since you’ve been through so much yourself, you wouldn’t have put me through the same pain you went through. Instead, you’ve dragged emotional traumas through every experience and relationship you go through; you inevitably make them feel the same way you do, and you leave scars too. 

It feels like you never cared, not just about me but anyone. You always say that you try, even though it feels like a mentally taxing experience to constantly be there for others. But if you truly cared or loved someone other than yourself, you’d realize that you’re the one constantly exhausting everyone around you. Your need for distance and space, as well as the push-and-pull nature of all your relationships, only leaves more people feeling empty and confused. But it’s apparent that this is not obvious to you or something you’d ever like to think about because all you worry about is yourself.

I’d like to think you brought bright and refreshing perspectives and/or experiences into my life; I completely wish that was the case. But I can’t lie to myself like you do, and I can’t pretend anymore that this is the truth.

I have to go. I can’t stay any longer in the toxic environment you’ve created, and I’m pretty sure you knew that too. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy in your case, because the more you wanted someone to stay, the harder it was for you to accept and be yourself. And you knew that because you were never upfront with your deficiencies, someone will eventually find out the truth and leave. 

I would have been able to love all of you, even the vicious cycle you’ve created and refuse to step out of. But the fact of the matter is, you chose not to tell anyone. You chose not to tell anyone your feelings, struggles, and fears. You’d rather self-destruct and collapse under the weight of your thoughts, leaving a legacy as the unsolvable enigma. It was easier for you to stay as a closed book than it was for you to let someone read your pages.

You were great and even wonderful at times, but you were also highly unpredictable, unreliable, untrustworthy, and codependent. In the end, you believed in the fictional fantasies you created rather than in real life; you loved the idea of who I was in your mind more than the person standing right in front of you. And I think that’s what hurt the most. It was knowing that no matter what I did, no matter what I said, you had these deep-seated beliefs and patterns of thinking that I could not change no matter how hard I tried. 

I hope that I was able to leave an impact on your life, whether it’s positive or negative. I really did try to show you what genuine love and connection can feel like. I’ve always hoped that you’d be able to outgrow those toxic thinking patterns, but I also know that it’s going to take time. So for now, I bid you farewell and I hope to see you succeed as the person I always knew you were from day one.