For months, you've been trying very hard to both communicate your feelings to me and to tell me that you were getting ready to stop waiting for something to change. At first, I felt panic and sorrow, then I began to see that you were on an inexorable march to that conclusion.
I felt that you would need a reason and that such a reason would make it less painful for you to make the choice you truly wanted to make. I see that the path that's evolved is along the lines of blaming me for dragging you in to a relationship dishonestly, in your view, along with some of my flaws thrown in for good measure.
So, I focused on the things I had to do. It became obvious that I could fight, but that this would only cause you more pain and that was never my intent. I thought that I had to be as selfless as my nature would allow and, if the timing was right, maybe it would play out. But, I was determined to respect where I knew you were going. The more space and distance you took, the more I gave. I intentionally made it more difficult for you to stay for the sole reason that I knew you desperately wanted to go. If you could, you might want nothing better than to "go" with me, but I also knew that I could be replaced and easily at that.
What you want, or I should say, what you need is a vibrant, ongoing love affair that includes all the normal things you crave, that anyone would crave: security, excitement, fun, intimacy. That you would want such things with me and that you would offer me the opportunity to take part, as a part of and, in your life is a great gift, one that was only inches away from my grasp. But, just like a high fly ball that misses the fielder's glove turns from an easy out to a massive home run, it's still a miss.
You are the best person I have ever known. You are complex and funny, smart and thoughtful. You levelness has been a source of persistent admiration on my part. And I find it impossible to say goodbye. To me, that's like death, leaving a void where a luminescent soul once stood. No more can the urge to share tete-a-tete be satisfied nor can the the role of number-one fan-dom be exchanged. Pleasant memories fade into a gray, image-less uncertainty when unreinforced by renewing reality.
But death comes to all things, I guess, or at least, the entropy of the soul. Aspirations wane with a weakened will, hopes blow away like summer-ending dandelion plumes and the last cup of tea grows colder on the night-stand. Change occurs and the cycle begins again. The rusted timeline of what we thought could be waits to dissolve without attendance as we are distracted with the new.
I hope that you can forgive me my trespasses. I want you to believe that I always meant well, that I wanted more, that I hedged my bets on all sides, only too heavily on yours, but only in the interest of making something happen. This is the sin of pride in fine form, to think that time could be over arched by will alone by one man. So, once again, I apologise and I hope you can forgive me for never being able to say goodbye.
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