Lost Love

#Lostlove Losing your best friend never feels good. It feels like a big empty pit in every organ of your body. Your mind reaches out to them constantly, and you’re always battling the monstrous idea of them sneaking into your head. I made my choice to leave. I had to grow up. I could no longer enable myself to live a comfortable life I didn’t deserve. And I knew you and I deserved more than the life we were living. It’s not that it was bad, or that you were not good to me. It’s that we lived a lie amidst all the beauty of our friendship. That lie was that I was going to be a good wife, a good friend, and an accomplice to you forever. How can I be any of those things when I have yet to understand myself or deal with real life. I stand by my decision painful as it may be. I succumbed to my lingering thoughts of you for a moment. And that allowed you to be hopeful, and somewhere in that space I felt hopeful too. But just because I am too scared to confront being alone or tackling my own demons doesn’t give me a right to place false hope. It just created another opportunity for me to rip open a wound that was just starting to heal for the both of us. A deeper wound for you and for that I am selfish. The last few months I thought I was moving on but really I just replaced the thought of you and us with alcohol, freedom, and whatever else short lived happy feeling I could get. I failed at what I left you for, I gave in to my need to be supported, ignoring my real responsibilities, ignoring the mental and physical work that had to be done. Though I will continue to stumble a bit, I know I am strong and resilient, and I will continue to put in the work required for me to be where I want to be. I’m sorry for having affected you on that path. And I truly wish you the best.