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My hands are poised over the keyboard, anticipating the flow of words that would reach you someday, anticipating every burst of emotion, as I am prone to do when I am left alone with my thoughts.

Love,

I begin the letter sweet and familiar, as our relationship had been and I take a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. No, that's wrong. I do know what I want to say. I do. It was just you managed to rob me the power to express my emotions. I never had anybody who managed to do that to me, therefore it took me quite a while to figure out what was wrong. It was not because I had nothing to say; it was because you prevented me from saying them, and for the first time in my life, I was robbed of my voice.

How are you?

I write next, feeling the grimace appear on my face even as I write the words. I was always polite, no matter how much you said otherwise. I knew when to pay my respects, I knew when to let people have their say. I might not always like what they say, but I would not rob them the opportunity to make them say what they want to, no matter how stupid it may sound. I was always polite, but you never saw that. I ask how you are, because I genuinely want to know. I ask because I was raised right and it is the polite thing to do. That and I secretly want to know if you even gave a crap about what you destroyed in me, or if you were even aware how messed up I am.

I'm doing great by the way.

I lie. But you never were great at reading me. You created an image of me in your mind about who I was, and how I acted and I don't blame you. I'm sure the fantasy me was much more interesting, much more decent and a whole lot of fun. I'm pretty sure fantasy me followed whatever you wanted, listened to what you had to say, and never went against your expectations. The real me is much more willful isn't she? I don't think you ever wrapped your mind around the fact that I am the kind of girl who wants affection whenever you can spare it. I don't think you ever wrapped your mind around the fact at how much I let myself be happy because you were and we wanted to be so badly. Sure, you always said I was smart and brilliant, but I think deep down you resented me for that. After all, no matter how many times you said you were proud of me, you always brought out the "you're smarter than me" card whenever I asked you to explain.

I miss you.

I am not sure if this is a lie. Maybe a half-truth. I certainly don't miss the fights we have. I certainly don't miss the fights we had which I never understood. I certainly don't miss the way you made me feel, like I should be apologetic for who I was, and every fault I had was something to be condemned and those I believed to be my assets were nothing but illusions of a vain girl. However, I miss the way we used to be. No matter what, we had fun. At least I think we did. Now I don't know, maybe I just imagined all of it. Maybe I just imagined that you were ever going to keep all the promises you gave me.

I am sorry.

This is the truth. I am sorry I ever trusted you. I am sorry that I chose you to be the person to let all my guards down for; I am sorry you were the person whom I decided to make plans of the future with; I am sorry that I prepared myself to fight for our love. And I am most sorry I let myself down by feeling so much for you only to have you throw everything away. I betrayed myself and I apologize to myself because I let you come first. I don't know if you are but I am sorry it seemed you were far too intimidated by me to see that my love was worth more than any money or social status I had. I am sorry you were that superficial.

Goodbye. Have a nice life.