Posted: September 11, 2011 in Love, Work

We need to talk.

Really, I need to talk and I need you to listen. Or at least pretend. The end result will pretty much be the same, but I want you to understand what happened. “It’s not you, it’s me,” just didn’t seem appropriate. It’s both of us.

When we met, I was in the process of falling apart. I wasn’t quite broken yet; if there’s one thing that the world has undertaken to teach me over and over again, it’s that nothing is ever so bad that it cannot get worse. My mind was in the process of unraveling, so anything I could do to anesthetize that pain was worth doing. My body was reflecting the ravages of my mind. I replaced a good night’s sleep with stimulants. I replaced working through my issues with alcohol. I was basically going down in flames. Indeed, there was a moment wherein I decided that killing myself was the right thing to do.

Every crash has a landing site. I smashed myself, and yet I survived. I had broken, so there was nothing to do but put myself back together. I didn’t do it alone. My friends all helped, but the rebuilding did start. You gave me a safe place to do that. For that I am grateful. Never be confused about that. The problem started when I started being capable of standing on my own two feet again. I was still dealing with a lot of my own stuff. There was a lot of stuff to deal with. Were I to be perfectly honest, there still is a lot to deal with. I’m not done by a long shot.

The things I need have changed. The things you provide have not. I’m sorry we had to go through the awkward breakup phase – I should have seen that coming. The fight and the awkward let’s-pretend-neither-of-us-hates-each-other conversations shouldn’t have happened. You were good for me for a while and I should have been able to tell when that changed. You need a cog, but I’m a complete machine. To stay would be to deny the sum of my parts in order to be a part of your sum.

Basically, it boils down to this: we were good for each other when I crashed, but I’m ready to fly again. All you would do is drag me down, and all I would do is rage against your very nature. It’s not healthy for either of us, so it’s time for me to take off. I wish you well, but I won’t stay.


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