There's humility in heartbreak. An openness that couldn't have really been expected. Ironically this entire experiences has made me more willing to talk, share and communicate than I ever have before. My life has become an open book, I'll pour my heart to anyone who'll listen. I'm embracing this vulnerability and seeing it for so much more than it making me weak or fragile.
It's made me human.
I feel it's wrong to say that I deserve better than you, but I do. It's weird to wrap my head around the fact that some of the best moments of my life in the past few years actually had nothing to do with you. You were thousands of miles away when I was making the memories that have made me who I am. You were a presence, yes, but you weren't involved. Knowing that I don't need you to be happy is liberating. It doesn't make this any easier, but it makes it possible.
Maybe it's not giving you, or us, credit but you were a letdown. We were a letdown. It never felt real, never felt right. I kept waiting for things to get better but I know what we had was the best it could ever be.
And it wasn't good enough.
You were so heartbreakingly ordinary and I built you up to be so much more than that. And I'm anything but. Honestly. Truthfully. I know I'd rather be completely happy and alone than stuck in mediocrity with you. I always knew there had to be more. I had to keep convincing myself that I could be happy spending the rest of my life with you. I should have never had to convince myself of anything.
So now I'm letting go. I'm walking away, not unscathed. Yes, it took four months to get here. Yes, I cried. Yes, there was drama and pain but I'd rather have a few months of this than a lifetime of stifling obscurity.
Because I didn't want to marry you. And you didn't want to marry me. If either of us wanted it we would have never let things get to the point we did.
We crashed. We burned. And now there's nothing left but ashes.