I want to say that I hope you are well, but I already know that you are so I’ll save that gut spill for another time. I gotta be honest, lately I have been lurking on your instagram, I have blocked you then felt like why would I block you since I’ve moved on and there’s no reason for me to follow you, then I would see your pictures and feel awash with emotions and then I’d block you again, then I’d unblock you and then I’d continue to tell myself that there’s no reason to keep this up because it’s already been almost four years since you and I last saw each other. And we’re in so different of a place/space mentally and emotionally that we’re so different of individuals now that we’ve practically become strangers. And even though I moved back to New York and honestly hoped that I would run into you this summer, and there’s still a chance (albeit slim) that I could with three weeks left remaining in the season, if I did see you I don’t even know if I’d be able to say anything.
Maybe you did see me out somewhere and you immediately walked away. Probably the right move if you did. I don’t really know what to say other than I still think about you and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop thinking about you. I’ve come to accept that this will probably forever be the case and that is okay, and I know that if the universe will ever grant me the privilege of being in another committed relationship again I won’t treat them the way that I treated you. I just wish that I treated you more kindly and that I showed you I loved you when I know deep down that I did. I wish I went out of my way for you more, and that I treated you with more respect. I wish you were nicer to me, and that your parents could have accepted me. I wish that our love could have over come the distance between the Bronx and Queens, and that it could have brought our families together. Wherever you are, as sad as it is and I pray that you don’t see this ever, I want to tell you that six years after we broke up I still think of you.