I did not wake up today thinking that this was the day I would break up with you. It just felt like it was time.
I didn’t want to let you go, because I wasn’t lying when I said you were my best friend. Even writing this right now, I can’t help but cry thinking about all of the times that you were literally my shoulder to cry on. If I had a Calculus assignment, an essay, a midterm, or anything else that was stressful, you were the one cheering me on and supporting me. You’d take me on late night Del Taco runs just so I could clear my head, and even though they might not have seemed like much to you, moments like that meant the world to me.
If I needed to vent about a co-worker, a sibling, a professor, or anything, or anyone, you would listen and offer feedback no matter what, and you always took my side.
You were the first person I went to when I needed to tell someone about my successes and failures. You always made my successes feel bigger than they were, and my failures seem insignificant.
You were so flexible and supportive. If I had to cancel on a date, you’d always understand. If I wanted to just stay at home and watch Netflix you were up for it. If I wanted to go out dancing, you’d come. You’d even come and work out with me and do lunges and crunches when you didn’t want to.
So you’re probably wondering why exactly I broke up with you. It’s not that you did something unforgivable like cheating on or abusing me, it’s just that we are so, so different. My life goals and yours have begun to diverge, and I’ve known for a while that they will never meet up again. I could forsee that we’d only grow to resent each other, and I didn’t want that to happen.
I also need time to rediscover myself. We jumped into this relationship right when I starting to solidify my identity… and I feel like I went backwards in some ways. Instead of establishing independence and loving you at the same time, you became my crutch that I had begun to depend on.
I would be lying if I said that this breakup wasn’t premeditated, because I have been thinking about it for some time. We’ve been “growing apart,” as cliché as that sounds. It started when we were in a long distance relationship, and after you came back…it was never the same. We learned how to live without each other, and so it was hard to try and revert back to our old lifestyle.
I felt like our lives fell into habit: we’d text or say “I love you,” but did we really mean it? We’d kiss, hold hands, or hug, and although it felt safe and comfortable, the spark was gone. I felt like you stayed with me because it was easier than breaking up, and I was doing the same to you.
It wasn’t fair.
But I’ll never forget how it felt to hug you for the last time, knowing that it was my last. I didn’t want to let go, but I knew I had to. And watching you drive away for the last time was one of the single most painful moments in my entire life.
I want you to know that just because I broke up with you doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I do. I’m just not in love with you, because I’m not the girl I was when we first started dating. I’ve changed, but I still love you and probably always will.
The hard part is that I feel so sad and alone… but I don’t feel like I deserve to be because I did this. I caused this pain for both of us. And it really hurts knowing that the only person I want to talk to about this is the one person that I can’t.
I don’t regret our relationship. I learned so much, and most every single memory with you is a good one. You’ll always be my first love, and I don’t know if I’ll get over you for a very, very long time.
I only want the very best for you. I hope that you find someone whose life goals and aspirations correspond with yours. Most of all, I hope you’re happy and satisfied with life even if I won’t be in it.