Adieu.

I’m always thinking about you. I can’t help but think that I was easy for you to discard. Ultimately you have made your decision, and I need to move on, but that is never easy. I can’t help what opinions you form of me. I can’t even help how you interpret the very best of my intentions and their resulting actions. I can only control myself. My feelings and actions. Only that.

I was told once before that it is not easy, and it is frequent. Both of these things are true. I will lose you a thousand times, and find you a thousand times. The same is true of myself. So, it’s okay.

It’s okay that public opinion held weight over the rapport we had; I simply overestimated it. It’s okay that the little details of you that I remember now sit in my brain in a spam folder, not useful for much else. It’s okay, because it happened. At some point in my life, we were friends. Given my track record with maintaining friendships, I shouldn’t be surprised, but given that I’ve been working on that, I think it’s healthy that I am - I did not give us a deadline, I simply (as best as I could) lived in the moment. I need to be thankful for that more often. I need to cry less about the end.