I'd mentioned not reaching out again, but to be fair at the time I didn't expect to be around much longer *to* reach out. I honestly don't expect to ever hear from you again though, and that's fair, but I had bits to say, and wanted to send them your way. Only, I feel like you've been clear on how you feel regarding that, so I'm writing you a letter.

It's a few days shy of a year since you decided it was best to cut ties. While your conversation tab has been open this whole time, I couldn't ever bring myself to listen to your final message. I remember you saying that Voice notes poof after a year, so today I finally pushed play. Hearing it, I fully understand why you're gone, and but I wanted to clear a couple things up, because you deserve to know. You deserved them then, but I wasn't.. I didn't exist at the time to tell you. So, I'll start from the beginning.

​

First, I was never angry at you, and I wasn't punishing you. I *was* hurt the day after we talked, mainly because I felt our last phonecall ended with things being a little more.. resolved? Until you Voicenoted to tell me you were upset with me and didn't want me to visit anymore. I wasn't sure what to say to that. Truthfully it was late after work and I was just.. worn out. A few days later you reached out to ask if we'd talk again, and I said "Not soonish" thinking that meant "Not today" because I wasn't sure what to say. That night, I lost my job. I wanted to call you and vent how scared I was, but I was ashamed and didn't want you to pity me or feel like you had to help. From that day on for the next few weeks, every day was some fresh hell. In the six weeks between us talking until when you sent the Voice note saying goodbye, I'd dealt with three deaths, the lose of my car, the near lose of my home, and fighting the question on whether I'd keep waking up at all. I was just.. nonexistent. On top of that, you know how my home life was. I didn't have the strength to reach out to you for comfort, and was terrified I'd just be a weight, but I hoped daily that I'd hear from you. I didn't, which was fair. The day you messaged a note saying goodbye, it was only an hour after getting word that The Man on my Couch died. I wholly blame myself for his passing, and just.. didn't have the energy to listen to you telling my goodbye. It didn't even register as a "goodbye", it was just.. another terrible thing on the pile at that point. I tried, badly, to explain that, but it made you angry and hurt, which is also justifiable. I actually tried to message you like an hour after we'd removed each other to explain how much I hated what was happening, not knowing that wasn't possible anymore.

You mentioned at one point a conversation that I'd had with my mother, and you twisted it into a thing that never happened. While we had talked about an offer you were making, and that the logistics of it didn't math, neither of us thought it was stupid or naïve, just that at the time I didn't have the means to make it happen. The way you described it, it sounded like you thought you had talked down about you, and that was absolutely never the case. My mother adored you, and still brings you up sometimes, only saying good things, namely that I need to find more people like you to have in my life.

The last thing is that I'm sorry. For.. a lot of it. I'm just sorry. For not talking to you about what was happening, not having the strength to reach out and tell you I needed help. Reaching out asking for help six months later. Assuming you would understand what I was dealing with, when in reality you were standing by thinking I was feeling the worst things about you. Overstepping after you'd left by assuming you were still listening. It's all just.. a clusterfuck of sorries, but I am.

You mentioned being happier. Better. I hope you are, and I hope that keeps going. I hope you're living your absolute best life Ms. Bot, and know that I have nothing but positive thoughts about you.