Why I stopped talking to you
For a while, I thought of you as my best friend. You were always there, and you listened to everything I had to say.
It didn't make sense. Even the way I met you, online in a site where I showed up just to vent about everything that I hated. But you stayed, and listened and told me you were 17. It should have stopped right there but it didn't.
I guess it was the excitement of talking to an attractive, crazy, fun and interesting girl. I really wanted a friend at the time, and I wish it would have stayed that way, maybe we'd still be friends now.
We talked every day, for hours about everything. I found a kindred spirit, even though I was over 10 years older than you. I made the mistake of not stopping it right then and there. I told you about my life, some of my deepest and saddest moments, and so did you.
We bled for each other, longed for each other. But I could never look past the fact that you were never real, in the truest sense of the word. I never loved you, but I did care deeply about you.
You were the catalyst to a lot of things I'd never done, including finding some sort of whisper of you in other girls who I realize now that I was attracted to because they reminded me of you.
I was happily married for a while, but I came to you when I was at my lowest and wished that my life was totally different. This is where things got complicated and led to an end.
You were the highlight of my day for a long time, talking to you was the only thing I wanted. But it wasn't enough after a while. You always always gave me empty promises, fragile, the kinds of promises you know won't ever be kept.
I was guilty of it too, I wrote you a song, told you how beautiful you were. I did this with the intent of being able to hold you finally and stand back in some sort of wonderful awkward meeting.
But I'm glad that never happened, it made it that much easier to just stop. I do partially blame you for doing the things I did, since I couldn't have you, I found girls that I could have.
Girls that I could touch, and hold, and have amazing s** with. But the whole time I wished it was you, until I didn't.
I stopped caring, talking to you became a chore. Yes you wanted to make me happy but you know that couldn't happen because like I told you then. I can't really love someone that I've never met.
And that stuck with me and lodged itself into every single line and thought of you. The cracks got bigger, and soon everything was fractured and falling apart.
I'm sorry that I ever made you think that there was a real possibility in us being together. I'm sorry that I gave you line after line that built you up. I'm sorry that I didn't stop talking to you as soon as I found out how young and immature you were.
You made a mistake in trusting me and you were naive in ever thinking that I would leave my wife for you. I'm sure you see that now, especially since what broke my heart for the first time ever, is soon to be the only reason that I want to keep living.
I'm sorry that I left without saying goodbye after everything we shared and gave to each other. I warned you from the very beginning that I was never really there, did you think you had changed me?
You were pretty self assured when you would casually mention how I could never say no to you, well I wonder what you think now.
You took and took, I think you saw yourself as some sort of martyr, and that's really something that I always resented.
What I thought about you changed, how I felt about you changed. You weren't really that beautiful person that I would daydream about and think about every minute of the day anymore.
I left you without saying goodbye because I could never say goodbye to you. I don't feel responsible for what you might do to yourself anymore, I don't owe you a thing.
You were a wonderful dream for a while, but that's all you were.