A Letter Written One Thousand Times Won't Take Me Back In Time...I'm Still Here...You're Still There.

...

I could list important dates or some of our awesome memories, but what would that do? Remind you of how much I hurt you?

At the beginning of our relationship, I had to convince myself that it was okay to like you. We got together so quickly, I'm thinking that it might have been too quickly. Five months seems like a stretch, but I wasn't prepared to be with you. It's not fair to you that I was selfish in my ways, but can you blame me for wanting someone who treated me like a princess?

Treating you the complete opposite of the way you treated me was wrong on every level, but I had become accustomed to finding attention in places where my nose didn't belong. You gave me all the attention I could have asked for and more, but I overlooked it. I felt sorry for myself trying to use my past relationship to justify my actions. 

Going out to the bar was the vehicle transporting me down the road of destruction. For some reason, I couldn't stop going whenever I had the chance. My friendliness was overbearing, and every guy that I was just being nice to took advantage of that. It was a misunderstanding until you explained the real deal to me, then it was my bad for not committing that to memory and leaving well enough alone. 

My begging won't get you back, and at this point I don't think anything will, but I feel compelled to explain myself. You deserve that from me as much as I deserve your silence.

Apologies aren't something that I'm really good at, because I don't usually feel sorry for many of my actions, but the sorry I owe you is far beyond my deepest, sincere apology. 

I want so much to create a simple chain of words that will make things better between us, but words are just words, and everything that happened, happened.

Feeling your love was the closest I've ever been to believing in magic, and you leaving was the biggest learning experience I've ever earned. You were right; this is hard.

I imagine us dressed up to go out but then staying in and dancing by ourselves...staying so late with you that my drive home is in a blizzard...riding in the truck with you and staring at the side of your face while you drive because studying your face meant that even when we weren't together I could see your face in my dreams...cleaning the kitchen together with the Frank Sinatra pandora station because  again, who doesn't love a nice dance?...coming home after a long day and jumping into your arms because when you held me I felt weightless...sitting on the beach on a warm September night staring out at our "fresh water ocean" admitting not only to you but to myself that loving you felt right. Memories of you and the love we shared create a euphoria for me. It's a high that makes me forget that you aren't coming home tonight, and that you won't be coming home on any future night.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that the most recent memories that we have made us forget about how happy we were. I'm sorry that I didn't have the right mind to treat you like a man. I'm sorry that I made you experience feelings that nobody should have to bear, but most of all I'm sorry for taking a nail, hammering it into your heart and then just leaving it there. 

I'm also sorry for mentioning memories that only make the pain hurt more, but hey, the knife won't cut if you don't pick it up(you probably won't read this anyways, this is just a healthy release for me).

My thoughts of you will always be pleasant, and my love for you always sincere.

...

Emily Page.