I know you'll read this, or someone will eventually point you to it.

You are the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I still remember when I asked you to marry me. We were cuddled together on your mother's couch, and I was watching you play a game on your laptop. I simply asked, and you said yes. Sure, it wasn't one of those romanticized proposals you see in media, but it was sincere. I spent months on the actual proposal, planning how to do it, where to do it...everything.

Then the fated thing happened, and it wasn't pretty. You spent a weekend away from me and basically shut yourself off from me. Right then I knew. I knew something bad was going to happen. A day after the event ended, you ended us. You had your reasons. Logically, I can even understand. Emotionally, I was a wreck. The one human that embodied everything I could possibly want no longer wanted me.

How do you get past that?

It gets worse. My daughter, my heart, bonded with you. She saw you as a friend and as a mother figure. You didn't just dump me, you dumped her, and that will be the most difficult part to forgive. Hurt me. I'm old and will at least exist. But you hurt her, and that even now infuriates me. How you could do such a thing defies my grasp.

You stated that after you worked out your reasons for leaving that you'd come back. I was invited to an event that you would be at and my anxiety flared up. Too much emotion happened that night. I was even told that I was the best boyfriend you ever had, and was gently warned to leave. I did so. I couldn't stay. You hugged me and I wanted desperately to hold you and not let go.

The rest of the night need not be mentioned. We both did things we shouldn't have. Even now, even right now, I write and hope you will return, even as I take those steps to move on, and I hurt. I hurt and can't show it. I hurt and I can't tell you. I'm so exhausted and I don't know anything about anything. Gods help me.