I feel like I've given up sometimes. Like I'll end up planted here forever, my fingers in too many jars and my roots running too deep to leave workout fear. I feel like I'm running out of time to do everything I want to, like I'll be compromising things I didn't expect to.
But a lot of me has changed, too. Different things are important to me now; I'm afraid of new monsters, now.
I'm still haunted by the same ghosts, though.
S, I will always love you. I wish for few things more than your happiness with the life you've fallen into, and I wish the world for your daughter. It kills me, parts of me, to not share my day with you, to not know her, to not see the joy she brings you, to not vent to you and laugh with you and reminisce. I didn't know what love really was until I loved you this way, and I also know that the best thing to do for you and for her and for your family is stay away. Life is so hard and so confusing and so blatantly unfair, so I'm trying to make peace. We were terrible together; we always will be terrible together. So I'm not mad that our love didn't make it down the aisle or to any entwined future. I'm only mad that through all of this, I have lost your friendship.