Goodbye.

You’re gone. You’re rightfully, honestly gone.

I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry for all the times I walked away, I’m sorry for the only and final time you walked away, leaving me sorrier than ever. I’m sorry for the chances and time you have wasted on me. I’m sorry that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for never really knowing if I truly loved you, or just the idea of you. I’m sorry I could never give you the answers you wanted. I’m sorry that I allowed a man who saw my imperfections as only another reason for my perfection to slip away from my fingers. I’m sorry I didn’t hold tight enough. I’m sorry I held you too wantonly. I’m sorry I ever trusted a piece of my heart to you. I’m sorry I made the decision to head over to your place the other night. I’m sorry for discreetly, and very much desperately trying to sneak into your life again. I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. I’m sorry if I did so over and over again. I’m sorry I had the audicity to ask for a third chance. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough reason for a third. I’m sorry I only allowed you, or rather, the hypotheses of what we’d I’d have been like to enter my life. I’m sorry I lowered my guard right after you left, only to find out, this time – you left for good. I’m sorry I only learnt of your entireness when I realised you weren’t there anymore. I’m sorry I constantly scurried back there, expecting that it was only right for you to be there. I’m sorry there was such a hard place to be. I’m sorry you couldn’t have held on a little longer. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been lesser of an idiot. I’m sorry for interrupting your life. I’m sorry for breaking your heart. I’m sorry for ever telling you that I was any different from the other guys, that I would never do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I didn’t think I’d be so incapable at loving somebody. I’m sorry you were so hard for me to love. I’m sorry for missing you. I’m sorry for once loving you. I’m sorry for making this about me, after all I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for being the selfish, jerk of an 18 year old I really am. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.

I’m so fucking sorry, it hurts me.

But this is it, I really need to let you go now. I need to stop keeping that space in me void, I need to stop walking home everyday, making a small detour by the void deck hoping you might be sitting there waiting for me so you can tell me it was all a mistake. You made a mistake and I’m no longer the mistake. I need to live my life now, and I can’t. I can’t when you’re constantly around, even when you’ve probably sliced the part of your life with me in it off yourself. I can’t not hate you for only making me realise I love you when you don’t anymore. I can’t. So, I’m sorry. I’m giving you up – every last memory and sore you etched in me, I’m giving you all up. I need to live my selfish, jerk of an 18 year old life without constantly to be reminded of you. I need to know I can, will and am perfectly capable of moving on. I need you to leave now.

So you, I’m saying goodbye now. I loved you once, but this is it.

This is goodbye.