Something a bit. . . Different

So, for most of my life, I have found that writing has been my way of expressing my thoughts and feelings. Every emotion, every idea. . . I would write it all down because I never had the courage to speak up.

I came across a letter I had forgot I saved. This letter, I believe, was written right around the middle of January 2023 (about 3 or so weeks after the contents of this letter occurred). This is a very personal letter that, quite honestly, hurt a lot when I read it over. I know the person I wrote it for (who shall remain unnamed) will probably never find out about it, and I would like to keep it that way.

Please keep in mind that I am not looking for any sort of pity or remorse when you read this, but I wanted to share how a personal experience made me feel without telling that person about it. And yes, we are still really good friends after everything that happened.

One final note before I share it is that I know it is incomplete, however, this is because the memories and heartache were too fresh at the time for me to ever truly finish it. And to be honest, I think it should stay that way because it makes it feel all the more personal to me.

~

There are some things I want to tell you, things that I don't even tell my parents or my closest friends. Some of these things I don't even completely understand myself. We all have secrets, and mine, I'm not sure I could ever be able to tell anyone, not even you. All of my life, I have tried so hard to be the perfect daughter, friend, girlfriend, but it has always been a lie. I'm not perfect, in fact, I'm far from it. I struggle with more things than I'd like to admit.

I'm an overthinker. I will think about one thing until it consumes me. I am constantly plagued by stress and high functioning anxiety. I'm always overwhelmed by the stress and anxiety I have to endure that I have panic attacks all the time. Some days they're easier to hide from my friends and family. I don't like to talk about my feelings, I never have. I pretend I'm fine, I smile to hide the pain, and I cry in the shower and late at night so no one truly knows what's going on in my head. I hate lying to others, but I also don't want others to carry my burdens too, so I put on an act. I tell myself it's better this way, but it's not. I know this isn't healthy, I am completely aware of that, but I just can't bring myself to let others also carry those burdens.

I love you, (he who shall not be named).

I've known for quite some time, but I never could bring myself to tell you. I know, I'm a coward. I was working up the courage to finally tell you, but then you broke up with me, so I gave up on that. I don't understand your reasons for breaking up with me. It's been a month now, and honestly, I still can't seem to wrap my head around it. I question myself every waking moment of the day, wondering where it all went wrong. I blame myself for the decision you made, believing that maybe if I had done something differently or had been more affectionate or tried to show more interest in the things you like, then maybe things could have ended differently. You told me that it wasn't me. You told her (had to take out her name too for confidentiality) that I was a great girlfriend. . .

But I don't see it that way. You can tell me all you want that it wasn't my fault, but I have convinced myself that I am the only one to blame. I tried so hard to be the perfect girlfriend for you because I didn't want to lose what we had, but I guess that wasn't enough. To be honest, I couldn't have asked for a better man. While you aren't perfect, you were perfect for me. You truly cared about me, you made me feel like I could voice my opinions, you made me feel a joy I have never felt before. You never pushed me to do things until you knew for sure that I was ready. You made me feel like the luckiest girl on earth to have such a gentle, caring, sweet, and incredible guy.