I really, really f***ing miss you. I miss you so much that you've begun to consume my mind. I can't go ten minutes without you, but today, I finally meant my goodbye. I don't need you anymore. I love you, but you were tearing me apart faster than I could put back the pieces. You left me fragmented, no longer able to remember what it meant to feel whole. But oh god, how I miss you, how I hate how I cry every time someone brings up Christmas because I remember your odd fascination with ugly Christmas sweaters. I can't eat Mexican food without thinking of your need for belonging and I want you to know that I wanted to hold you in my arms but I couldn't because you'd stab me in the back, again. It's hard because I love you wasn't enough to make me stay, and you didn't care enough to tell me not to go. I let you break my heart, but I had to let you go and do now I am, carefully. I bought a butcher's knife weeks ago and I've been slowly carving my heart so that the part you took when I left you no longer leaves a gaping hole. It is gone, and my heart is half the size it used to be, but with time I know it will grow again. Goodbye, old friend.
I wish I didn't mean it this time.