I was sure until I wasn’t. Everything was crystal clear when I was sure; you and I, the future, and nothing else mattered. But once the certainty was cracked, everything I had imagined fell apart. 

Happy belated birthday.  I wanted to write on the day but was conflicted. I’m tired this morning, so fuck it. I hope you had a wonderful day, I really do. 

Am I apathetic or deeply angry?  I don’t know. 

Erin,

My current state of confusion is not that I don’t love you, and it’s not about ten bad days.  It’s about seeing what seemed to be a side of you that eclipsed the part I knew. I love you, but I can’t shake those memories nor those feelings you instilled.  I have deliberately brought up good memories, loving memories, and tried to live in them to stoke the flame again, but it isn’t working like it used to. I’ve spoken with my brother, Guy, Marjorie, and my mother, all of whom know me well, to get their opinions, so that I can know if I’m just running.  My feelings for you are not something I take lightly, and I don’t want to let what could be short-term animosity or apathy keep me from what could potentially bring me happiness.  I think about you daily, but New Years would have a certain pressure component to it, which would be awkward and unnatural for us.  

How could I have loved or ached for you for so long, when I’m feeling so very little of either now. 

Sometimes I think on the six year trek through green fields and over challenging mountains, and just when the finish line is within sight, right in front of us, you lost your nerve. We were that close. But I think I’m glad you did. 

Any reason.  Any excuse.  Every little thing was a magnified reason to stay where you are.  And the kicker?  What really made me finally understand what your real intentions were?  That you knew you had hurt my feelings and were completely unwilling to say a single word to do anything about it.  What a kick in the gut.  If this is who you really are, then it’s blatant why you end up with the kind of guys who will put up with this kind of selfish and insensitive behavior.  I wished better for you, but now I think that’s what you really deserve. 

You ruined it… deliberately. 

So this is it?   The end of our journey?  Can it really be?   It seems impossible and implausible.   Deep inside I am in shock and terribly pained, but I won’t dare show you.  You’re a selfish child and I am an incensitive asshole, but we’re relearning each other, figuring out our boundaries, likes, dislikes, needs, wants.  We don’t just walk right into knowing it all. We learn through communication, time and some unfortunate trial and error.  Regardless of how you thought you felt up to this point, you were far too quick to call the time of death on this patient. You have no idea how the next few days might have been. 

Some days it seems to suck more that you’re not here. I went for drinks with some of the crew and wished you were there. You would have liked the old school bar across from Warner Bros studios. The Smoke House. Very 1950’s & 60’s. I’ll have to take you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Good night.