Have you ever needed to say something clearly, concisely, and devoid of emotion? Glaringly painful, raw facts but can’t quite construct it succinctly? Trying desperately to convey your very soul, without giving away more of yourself than you already have? Have you ever needed to abolish a 14 year friendship? Well my darling, bleeding hearts, I have formatted a template just for you.

There are levels of love that a person can experience. Some need more, some need less and some need it all. I am that person that needs it all. I will not assume which level you are, because this is finally about me.

The first love, physical love, is very much about intimacy. Not to be confused with sex, although, that is a key player. It’s everything that makes sex more than just the act. It involves soft caresses, the closeness of skin on skin, eye contact and actual presence. It’s being intimate while inhaling the very essence of your partner. A give and take of pleasure. Exploration.

The second type of love is mental love. That is someone who can challenge you in a positive way. Scintillating and thought provoking. Someone who helps you grow and seeks to grow along with you. Someone who can delve into the darkness and go further into the depths of your existence than anyone before, revealing all your secrets until you are naked and exposed, yet secure and safe within their love. Secure enough to know that they will never let you succumb to the places from which you hide, even from yourself.

Then there is emotional love. That means that you feel a connection with your partner, your significant other, your twin flame. You feel seen and wanted. Without a doubt, you know how they feel about you. There is a thick meaningfulness and a chemistry that is so heavy the weight of it alone can make your knees tremble and your body shake. A certain energy, if you will.

Finally there is monetary love. This is rather tricky verbiage because for some it pertains to a provider, or wealth. Someone who can lavish gifts or pay all the bills. When I use this term (to specify my form of monetary love) it is someone who can provide for themselves. Someone who can be a travel companion and doesn’t need to stress about penny pinching because rent is due in two weeks. A person who doesn’t need to check their account just to splurge on lunch. It’s a security that I don’t always have to be the one to pay for everything. Not that I can’t, but just knowing that I don’t have to.

You meet all of the criteria for me. When I try and come to terms with why I shouldn’t feel the way about you, that I do… I can’t really rely on a reasonable excuse not to. I see you, and have for so many years. You refuse to let me in, but I still see you. I have nothing to gain by these feelings, because you give me everything I require (minus one key factor, which we will touch upon). It has nothing to do with your bank account, your job, what you eventually could be. I’ve always seen the specialness in you, even when you were merely a dish boy. I’ve always told you as much.

That being said… all confessions aside; this is, in fact, a letter of discontent. Let’s unpack why I could be feeling these certain ways -shall we? Please, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong… actually. Don’t.

Let’s start with our chemistry (and I do feel it, quite strongly) however, if you’re being honest and you don’t have any feelings for me, really what I’m attracted to is your emotional unavailability. That appeal, that draw that pulls me towards you, like electromagnet propulsion is merely your ambiguous and unclear wants. I don’t know what you’re looking for. I’m romanticizing what a great match we could be; envisioning a different life instead of coming to terms that I’m not a choice for you. You will never choose me.

There is an excitement that grows deep in my belly, when I open my messages and see a text from you. The butterflies have become the norm on days that I know I’m going to see you. Yet, I’ve begun to realize, this building anticipation is nothing more than your poor communication, your inconsistent and intermittent and (dare I say) lack luster responses just leave me craving more. It’s the hope that I, myself, chain to your replies that make me think that it’s you wanting me. Thinking of me, you needing to know that I’m thinking of you as well.

The continuous talking about you -to friends, family, anyone who will lend an ear; really, about what we’re planning, what we’ve done and that possibilities of actions that I’m over analyzing. The hopeful inflections that I place one certain things you said. If I’m going to be truthful with myself and honest with everyone else, it’s really because I’m trying to make sense of your actions and trying to figure out why they don’t match up with your words. This inability to halt my thoughts, to convince my brain to stop thinking about you. I’ve been trying desperately to convey to my fickle heart why it’s so important to let you go, because, although I’m emotionally starving and malnourished… I cannot survive solely on the breadcrumbs you throw me.

I understand that I misinterpret a lot of things. I overdramatize, over analyze and over think. I place everything under the microscope of “love” to scrutinize meanings. I understand that the majority of what I think is in fact based on how I want the outcome to be. I also know -you deliver a beautiful bouquet of mixed signals and actions that can be easily misunderstood and interpreted in any fashion. Maybe you don’t realize it? Maybe I make you feel a certain way that is uncomfortable or foreign to you. Maybe you’re just being playful? Maybe you just like the feeling you get when you’re with me. I will never know. What I do know is we can be more, we can be less but we cannot stay the same.

The rollercoaster of emotions that I feel are getting to be way too much. I’m on a high when I’m with you. All my boxes are checked. You make me feel the way I want to feel. The low is when I leave and it’s confusion… wondering why you don’t feel it, see it, understand it. Then the stark realization that I don’t measure up in whatever way YOU need. Then I feel bad that I can’t seem to control myself enough to just walk away and leave you be. You need to find your person; your future and happiness are really none of my concern.

I bless and release you. Go forth and conquer the world. Become fulfilled and do whatever you can to accomplish whatever it is you want to put your mind to. I don’t want to hold you back from living your best life. It will be without me, however. I deserve that for myself. I deserve a full man, not bits and pieces. Scraps given to keep me pacified. I won’t always be this girl. I am forever morphing and growing. I can’t disrespect myself enough to watch you choose another. Even though I want nothing but happiness for you. I can’t just be your friend. Sitting on the sidelines. I’ll always want more than you are capable of giving. It’s an awful place to be, a devastating choice I need to make, for my own mental health. I need to walk away.

I appreciate all the lessons you’ve taught me, I wish I could’ve taught you more. We never really got to touch on my level of expertise but we’ll always have that one Thursday frenzy.

My pain is your pain, bloodied and raw,

CR