They say it’s great if you can stay friends with your ex, especially if you two separated on good terms.
But I mean real friends, without any casual hookups or benefits.
And I thought so, too. I simply couldn’t believe that you can cross someone out of your life who was a huge part of it, just because the two of you don’t share a romantic love anymore.
After all, this was the person you spent months or years with, and you two must have something in common.
If nothing else, you have shared some beautiful memories, and at least for the sake of those memories, you should make an effort to stay in good relations.
This was the person whose personality you loved, and the person who was not just your lover but also your best friend.
And even when you two break things off, there has to be something left in him for you to love.
That is why I thought that staying on good terms with your ex is the only civilized thing to do, especially if the two of you were in a long-term relationship.
Until I found myself in the same situation.
When you left me, you pointed out that you would like to stay in my life in some way.
You told me you didn’t love me as a woman any more but that you still cared about me as a person, and you asked me to be friends.
And at first, I thought that would be possible, and I agreed with you.
But the truth is that I never wanted to be friends with you. I was just trying to find a way to keep you around me, so I didn’t have to lose you completely.
I was trying to find a way to stay in your life, even as a friend, because I knew that was the only way to stay close to you.
And because I thought it would be easier for me to get you back that way.
But it’s time for us to end this phony friendship.
Because it just serves me as a mask which helps me hide my true feelings, and those feelings are everything but friendly.
Because I don’t see you as a friend. Because I don’t love you as a friend. And I never will.
Because this friendship is actually causing me more harm and emotional damage than our breakup.
Because it gives me false hope, when there is none.
The truth is that I spend hours and hours dissecting your every text, phone call or move, trying to find some traces of your love for me.
Trying to find some mixed signals—a sign that I still exist somewhere inside of you.
Every time you look at me, I am looking for an old spark in your eyes, looking for a sign that you are still looking at me the way you used to.
Every time you kiss me on the cheek, I hope that you’ll miss an inch and that you’ll end up kissing me passionately.
Every time you call me, I hope that this will be the time when you’ll understand that you’ve made a mistake and that this will be the time when you’ll ask me to come back to you.
Every time I see you, I am struggling with the impulse to run into your arms and to tell you everything that lies in my soul.
Call me selfish, but I can’t be your friend because I can’t be happy when you are happy without me. And real friends should always be happy for you.
But most of all, I can’t be your friend because I can’t be honest with you.
Real friends should tell each other secrets and share problems with one another, right?
But how can I talk to you about everything that is bothering me when you are the main cause of my misery?
I know that by doing this, I am losing you completely.
But as much as I’m dying inside because of this fact right now, I know this is the only choice I have, and I know this is the decision I have to make if I want to move on.
I know this is the only way for me try and get over you, and to try and heal my broken heart.
And I know this is something I need to do if I want both of us to be happy.