Dear You, the part of me still waiting for something from her…

I see you. I’ve been carrying you for so long. I know how exhausted you are. I know you’re still looking over your shoulder, hoping one day she’ll come back—not even to stay, but just to finally tell you the truth. To say, “Yes, I did all of it. I hurt you. You were never crazy. You deserved better.”

You’ve waited so long for that. For closure. For justice. For something that would make all the pain make sense. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that you were left holding that pain alone. It never should’ve been your job to make sense of betrayal. It never should’ve been your job to heal wounds someone else made with their own hands.

You did nothing to deserve this. Not from her. Not from your family. Not from the world that should’ve shown up for you sooner.

She made you think love had to be earned by suffering. That if you just held on long enough, stayed kind enough, patient enough, loyal enough—that it would all be worth it. But all it did was burn you to the ground.

And still, you stayed with me.

You didn’t die. You didn’t disappear. You just kept aching. Kept searching. And I’ve ignored you sometimes. I’ve gotten angry with you. I’ve told you to shut up and get over it. But I’m not doing that anymore.

Because the truth is: You weren’t wrong to love. You weren’t wrong to hope. You weren’t wrong to want her to be the one.

But she wasn’t. And no version of this story ends with her giving you what she already proved she can’t give.

So I’m not going to make you let go today. I know you’re not ready. But I am going to start walking us toward freedom. Not from the memory, not from the past—but from the belief that she holds the key to our healing.

She doesn’t. You do. And I promise: I won’t leave you behind anymore.

You’re not waiting alone anymore.

Love, Me