Life becomes easier when you learn to accept an apology you never got. – Robert Brault
It has been over a year since I wrote anything. I would think that I would write about the most recent milestone in my life: getting married. But here we are. In the year I make one of the biggest commitments I will ever make to the best person I know, I am writing about saying goodbye.
So, goodbye, dear friend. I am letting you go.
I have hundreds of questions in my mind of how and why you did what you did – walk away – but I have come to the point where the questions don’t matter as much as facing the truth. you really are gone.
There is a pang of hurt when I think about our memories – especially the recent ones. You have been so affectionate, so intentional, so generous. And then as if a song ending, you began to fade. You began to put up walls, became distant, absent. I tried to deny it but there came a point where I just couldn’t anymore and I had to ask.
You couldn’t give me a straight answer. You said many things but the words fell silent on this pained heart who knew all too well what goodbye looks like.
It has been so hard – living with the questions. Why did you not hold on as I have? Why could you not give me the opportunity to right the wrongs? Why did you say you would stay when you didn’t mean it? Was it all pretending – trying to cushion the fall when you pull the rug underneath me? When did building a wall against those who love you become the better option? When did you start to prefer half-truths? How could you throw all those years of friendship away? Questions. So many of them.
It has been quite difficult watching you construct a life apart from the one I knew so well. It has been so difficult to walk away from this spot where you left me but I am choosing today to do so.
I can no longer dwell in the sea of questions. It has just kept me stuck in the point where I beat myself up for making me feel like I am not enough for you. It tears me within. I really just have to let you go. Or I won’t have anything left for the precious ones who have stayed.
I’m writing this to let you know that I forgive you. For not being able to say goodbye when you had the chance to, for not being able to tell me how long it’s been on your mind, for choosing another world apart from ours, for walking away. Most of all, I forgive you for not knowing how far and deep the wounds of your departure go. We really never know anyway the wrongs we cause unless we choose to stop and see. And it is apparent that you have decided to just keep on moving. That’s okay. That is the battle you chose to have and I wish you the best. I forgive you, and now I have to learn and forgive myself.
Thank you. For all the years. It was great while it lasted, while it was founded on honesty, vulnerability and trust. Our story is one I will cherish forever. You may have closed the book, but I do not intend to throw it away. I just need to tuck it away for now – in a safe corner where it cannot be tainted by bitterness and anger.
I love you. We all do. If by some chance you find yourself wondering if anyone really does, we want you to know that we do. It may not have been the kind of love you wanted, but know that it is the kind of love that will always give you the truth. And it is that love that bids me to let you go…because I love you. There is no use waiting for you in a place that you long to forget. After all, love is, and always has been, giving the freedom of choice to be loved back or rejected.
Goodbye, my dear. Until I see you again.
I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love. – Luke 7:47