Rising To Grace

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Why did I even think I could- Shut up, Alex. YOU HAVE TO DO THIS. What was the word Katie used? Closure. Just write it. So finally I rub my hands against my cheeks and sit up straight to type what is going to take me an hour. Dear Andrew, Frankly, I don't know why I'm writing this letter to you. I woke up daily thinking about only you; going to bed too is hard now. You manage to make some sort of cameo appearance in my dreams every night. So, let's get to business. And, I haven't been one to beat around the bush, so... Here's what I couldn't (and maybe can never-rather would never) say to you directly. I loved you, I love you and I always will. They say you'll always remember your first love. I used to be a hopeless romantic, always dreaming about finding love. I understand what they mean now. Even if you didn't feel the same way. I won't blame you for what happened. It was mostly my fault; I saw things that weren't actually there. Hoping you'd love me back when all of this was just a conquest for you. And that part is your fault, for not having the guts to even stop after you strung me along for six months. Six. You make me feel worthless. There were days when you were all I needed...but now you've altered the dynamics of what we were. Now I think I'm never going to be good enough for anything. So, thank you. You've managed to destroy my self-esteem more than it is already. It gets dark inside my head...and I thought you would understand. You know me. No matter what you say...was all of that a lie as well? Your family? Your life? Well then, you must be a good storyteller. Is this how you get all these girls? I'm actually going to stop the blaming part here, or I'll end up sounding like a pathetic ex-girlfriend (even though that's what I feel like inside) and God knows you got enough of those. Send my love to your new lover. Treat her better... (Thank you, Adele.) Please don't break her heart too . These are my feelings and at least in my fantasy, I hope (and sort of know) you won't run all over my heart with your studs. This is my story (I obviously won't let you read this) and this time this one has a happy ending. The one I wanted badly. (With you. But I finally learned that you don't get what you want.) And for the first time, I realized that I don't need you anymore. I may not have a completely healed heart (the scar's always gonna be there), but I'm learning. I pity you, Drew. I really do. Je t'aime. Mais si jamais je devais refaire ça, je le ferais. Pas parce que j'aime la douleur. Mais parce que le sentiment que j'avais - vous ne l'auriez jamais compris. T'es un bâtard ennuyeux et sans coeur. Vous complètement, charmant, i***t merveilleux. Je te hais tellement. J'espère qu'elle vous rend heureux. Je ne pourrais jamais de toute façon. So this is what I wanted to say. Finally. I actually thought this would take me a day---but I seem to work well against people I hate. And you know all about that, don't you? Fuck you, Andrew Meyer. I stretch back, press Save and yawn before moving the cursor to Save. Am I s**t sleepy or what? *Your message has been sent. View message* FUCK. I'm in deep s**t. ____________________________________________________________ Translation: I love you. But if I ever had to do that again, I would do it. Not because I like pain. But because the feeling I had - you would never have understood. You're an annoying bastard and heartless. You completely, charming, wonderful i***t. I hate you so much. I hope she makes you happy. I could never anyway.