It took me eight months to even think about getting over it. Nine months to take the emotional action. Eleven months to start dating again.
I served my time and dealt with it. Took every second I needed, leaned far too much upon my friends and even resorted to public crying episodes.
You know nothing about the toll that it has taken. Still, I am stronger for it. A better friend, lover and person. I remain grateful for every second of hurt.
I Lived within the insanity of trying to understand. Searching through every memory meticulously to see exactly when it was that you gave up on me.
My behavior in response was unforgivable, I no longer judge you for how you dealt with my betrayal. I can even look past the indiscretions the came before it.
You did not love me anymore; your actions depicted that. You needed to be reckless and selfish; it just took me a while to accept this fact.
Although now I have made it to the other side, finally. I see the light, feel the distance and for the first time in a while you play no part in my decision’s.
I no longer do things out of honoring my imagined penance. I will not return to that life. Not through my actions or even in my thinking.
All is fair in love and war, we have lived this in both regards. I hold you no ill will; no need for your suffering lives within me. On the other hand, I no longer desire to be the reason for your happiness.
You have someone already committed to that task. I can understand how feelings could reemerge, even feel compassion for your predicament.
However, I must respectfully decline any part of it. We experienced what we were meant to. I had to love you as fully as I did, lose myself as completely as I would and even release you as permanently as I have.
With nothing but my fondest regards, I support you to attend the wounds and address the scars. Because I have learned that there is nothing more deadly than an infection of the heart.