I am pretty sure it’s over. I’m pretty sure that tonight was the last time we will talk for awhile.

Once upon a time, I fell in love with my best friend of twelve years. I fell hard and fast and I think we both did which turned out to be a mistake. We were so young and stupid, we didn’t know anything but how we felt. I thought that the love I had for him would conquer my illness and my troubles, and it did for awhile. But then he became one of my troubles and I didn’t know how to handle that. I loved him almost too much because I didn’t love myself at the time and that’s what ruined us. My realization that this relationship couldn’t solve everything and it couldn’t cure me. The realization that I could not forgive myself if I ever let this person who I loved so dearly, be dragged down with me. He knew it too. He will deny it, but he knew it. He feared our conversations in the last couple months before our breakup because he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and it seemed better to say nothing at all than the wrong thing.

I broke up with you in order to save you from me and in turn I still managed to ruin you and I am so sorry.

Tonight was our last conversation, at least for awhile. Every sentence sounded like a goodbye and that’s how I know it. You were my first love. My first friend. My first real heartbreak.

I know I write about you a lot, but it’s because I always feel like there is more I could say and then it all comes out as repetitive and sloppy.

This is the last time I will write about you. I love you, good luck my friend.