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Dear Tom,
I know we're breaking up eventually once I leave the country. You don't plan to get back together later, and that's wise, since who knows when we might be in the same city for more than a few days. But I'll have you know that in the ten months I've known you, eight months we've dated, you've inspired me more than anyone previously. I finally believe that I can pull above the average, that my stutter is a neutral characteristic, that the past has affected me but I can choose what to make of it now. You've given me confidence in fields outside my own. And I haven't been lonely in eight months, whereas before, you and I both wandered around, involved but faraway. The best friend you've been is unlike any best friend I've had: you've handed my ** to me concisely multiple times, cut my rants off with a plea for your own sanity. But you have explained why; you have regarded my feelings; and you have given me more of yourself, honest affection, and love than any friend prior.
I will never forget you. And I pray, selfishly, that you never forget me. I wish we could be life partners; I tell myself that the future is in our hands; but it's a combination, really, of you and me and Providence.
Either way, I love you, now, and hopefully forever.
Sigh. This is beautiful. And a real confession for once on this site. Too bad the incels and children leaving sub-par drama around here can't take it in.
Tom is a lucky man