I was thinking about the previous times we’d stopped communicating and how later you described your confusion, or would say something like you didn’t know what the rules were. Like there was some expectation the separations were temporary and would eventually resolve.
Each time was meant to be permanent. I never wanted this, but each time I was beyond broken when I pushed towards the thing I wanted the least, for our own good. For mine.
There are no rules, because there is no goal. Not anymore anyway. There is no game. This was never a game to me. It’s too easy to fall back into old habits like earlier today. We’re sad, we’re hurting, we miss each other, we still love each other. At least that’s what I’m getting on my side. It’s dangerous. I appreciated your backing me professionally when I need it, I appreciated your concern and willingness to deviate a little, I wanted it. But I can’t fall back into this pattern. I can’t have want I want. I already tried everything I could think of before getting to this point, and you never made room for me in your life. Me becoming a chaotic force wasn’t my fault.
So this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because I love you. I have been sick since you left and I’m still getting worse in new ways I hadn’t thought possible in a long time. I’m trying to cope. I’m doing a poor job right now. But I can’t set a precedence that no matter what you do or don’t do, I’ll come back and will suddenly be in your life again. I will not come back regardless of the circumstances. I can’t do that. I meant it when I said I couldn’t talk to you again without it hurting me. Not until we could be together, or I was over you. We will never have a friendship like we did when we met. It isn’t possible.
We interact out of necessity. I appreciate the flexibility you’ve afforded me to stay productive while pulling myself back together. I do notice it, it is not taken for granted. And I will never be able to thank you verbally, so I can at least do it here. But I hope you don’t misinterpret our communication in the office as a sign my limits are flexible, or that my absolutes will ever change.
When the day comes and we no longer have a professional tie, you will never hear from me again. Any contact with you is hopeful, it’s painful. This is simple. No rules, no trying to figure out how something works. This isn’t some temporary thing. If you can’t do it right, I can’t do it at all.