Dear T*,
I understand I broke up with you, but that doesn't mean you still couldn't have broken my heart because you did. I spent my summer going back and forth on whether my decision was right. I spent a month not feeling anything because it was too hard to fight with myself. Then I spent another month fighting with myself, God, and life trying to figure out if letting you go was the right thing. I finally got to the point where I realized God was allowing me to have the choice to decide and if it wasn't supposed to be he wouldn't allow it to happen. So I remembered your words, "If you change your mine, I'll be here." And I ran after those words! I got the guts to tell you how I had to been feeling after I fought with myself for a whole summer. I had thought, prayed, struggled, and came to a conclusion that we could make it work. I was scared in the beginning. Scared of being hurt, taken advantage of, left, falling for you because there was something I never told you.
I was starting to fall in love with you. I could feel the words forming on my lips wanting to be let out, but in my head I was crazy. I always told myself I would be the girl who waited to say s the words "I love you" to the man I would marry and spend the rest of my life with. The idea that I could say that to you was the scariest thing in my life. Could I actually have these feelings for you that I did? Could you be the one? So I decided I would never know unless I gave my whole self into the relationship and stopped being scare. That's when I jumped. I told you how I felt. And that's when I fell.
I fell hard and hit the ground defeated. The words you said on my drive way that day meant nothing anymore. The future you talked about with me just faded and I was left to deal with the shattered pieces of a heart. My heart. So I slowly began to pick them up and to be honest I'm probably still picking them up. I found a piece of best friend, of love, of trust, of hope, of belief, and so much more. And I slowly began to glue those pieces back together. Sometimes a piece falls out again and I re-glue it.
My heart is broken and the scar will always be there, but I could never tell you that.
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