"Midnight again. I've had this in my chest for days and I'm tired of carrying it. I don't know how to start this without sounding cruel so I'll just say it.
Hey.
I really don't mean to waste your time.
We just can't be.
Sorry.
This is not to hurt you.
I'm really sorry.
But this can't just happen.
I'm not whole right now.
And you deserve someone who is. You are probably reading this confused. I would be too. Last week you were talking about next month. Yesterday you asked if I was eating, and today I'm telling you to let go?
What changed?
Did I love you too hard?
Or not hard enough? Tell me did I do something wrong so I have something to blame, because"I'm sorry " isn't an answer.
It's not you. I swear it's not you. It's me and all the stuff I haven't fixed yet. The stuff I thought I could hide while loving you. I keep thinking about your time . You're 20,22, whatever. You have years and I don't want to be the guy who takes those away and gives you anxiety and late night overthinking in return.
You deserve mornings without guessing if am okay. You deserve plans that don't get cancelled because I'm drowning in my own head and, I can't give you that right now. I know you're going to ask if we can true. If we can do long distance, or breaks or therapy, and I wish I could say yes. But I've tried "trying" before. And it just turns into me lying. Lying that I'm fine. Lying that I'm present. Until one day I'm not, and I hurt you worse.
I'd rather hurt you once, clean, than hurt you slowly every day so this is it. You were never the problem. You were the best part. That's why I have to do this . I hope you're okay. I hope you find someone who doesn't have to write letters like this".
Yours sincerely,
John Deere.
