I don’t know why I’m sending this or if you’ll even get it. I guess I’m hoping for the latter. Or I’m just crazy and can’t seem to let you go.

The words have been swirling in my head for a while now. Over and over, what I’d say to you, yet, they’re t really clear enough to actually call you and say them to your face.

Maybe I think writing them down will help to truly wash my hands of you. Please accept my apology if I ramble on a bit.

I’ve heard things here and there and I do genuinely hope you’re okay.

I guess, in a way, I have to thank you for the shady things you’ve done to me.

I know that everyday you have to live with them and, deep down, I hope you feel some remorse.

Though a big part of me doubts you do.

I’m now out traveling the world.

I just hit my 38th country.

I know I should hate you and despise you, but, I can’t.

I’m not that kind of person.

Against better judgement, I forgave you a long time ago. You’re part of who and what has made me into what I am today, sitting on the beach of an island in Australia. Looking up at some of the most amazing stars I’ve ever seen.

Even so, it brings me back to us drinking wine and watching airplanes come in over the valley of the desert in “our secret” spot. A spot that I never shared with anyone else.

As much as I think you’re a sack of shit…

Part of me loved you and you’ll always hold a place in my heart.

Part of me knew you as you knew me.

Part of me saw you in the weak forms.

The times when no one posts a fake image on social media.

The parts that are personal.

The parts that resonate with the intimate aquaintances.

The gross faces.

The bad bits.

The zits and the rolls.

The double chinned angles, and the waking breath.

You, more than most people, know how hard I am to crack. How hard it is to get into my heart.

Somehow, you managed to do that.

It makes me sad and angry and happy all at the same time to know that you accomplished such a monumental feat.

Without you I wouldn’t be where I am today.

I guess there is sometimes a feeling…

A feeling that the moving on will never happen and it will never be over if the chance to say what needs to be said doesn’t come.

Closure.

Closer to the new start and old comfortable feelings.

The feelings I had before we met.

I’ll be different when I let you go because of all we’ve shared, but it won’t be a different soul in me, just a new perspective.

I’ll be free to claim my spirit again and see it with new eyes.

Eyes that couldn’t see this way had we never met.

In part the change comes from your actions and partly because of mine. Some of it caused by my experience and some caused by things you did.

This moving on, it’s never certain. How is it done? Is it right? Why do I feel this way? When is it over? All I know for certain is,

I get to be me again.

That’s my greatest gift.

That’s everyone’s greatest gift.

It must be done.

I’m done.

It’s over. No matter what was left unsaid.

No matter what we didn’t get to do.

Its done.

We are done.

I am done.

And I get to be me to once more.

No matter what.

No matter where.

No matter who I leave behind.

I get to be me once more.