You may have seen my posts about this person I used to be friends with—I wish I could tell you their name, because it’s such a cool name, but alas, they will always be, to you, the person who won’t talk to me anymore, my ex-friend, or them.
I think I’ve moved on, but not in the way everyone expects me to. Because I fucking can’t, and don’t want to—I am not just lovesick when I tell you how special they are as a person, and it’s not just a symptom of BPD when I tell you how special they are to me. I will always remember them, and nobody will ever replace them, and I’ll always wonder where they are and how they’re doing. If I believed in God I’d pray for them every night.
And I’m not saying this because I’m obsessed. I was obsessed, and I’m ashamed of that, but I don’t think I am anymore, but everyone wants it to be that because it isn’t fucking normal to feel this way. It isn’t fucking normal to have the kind of life I’ve had, either. Or the kind of life they’ve had.
When a friend of mine reached out to them and they said I needed to move on, I had an absolute meltdown. I said so many cruel and awful things—not to them, thank fuck—and for a short while all the love I felt for them combusted into hate. And then I felt ashamed because I remembered who they are. They aren’t a mean person. I really can’t see them hating me, or anyone.
I damaged their trust in me and probably broke their heart. They gave me a lot of chances and a lot of patience and I fucked everything up.
So I’ve moved on in the sense that I’ve sort of made peace with their being gone forever. It makes me sad but I’m not destroying myself over them, and I’m not going to beg for their forgiveness and for them to come back. I’d rather they never hear my name or be reminded of me ever again, if I make them as uncomfortable as it seems like I do. I’ll always have daydreams of bumping into them again, but I only want that to happen if they aren’t going to be freaked out by seeing me.
I’m going to write them one last goodbye letter, which my friend will relay to them if they want to read it. If they don’t, that’s fine, and I understand why.
Hey friend. It sounds like you found a special relationship. That's very fortunate and also very wonderful. You're correct that you won't ever replace them. But the reality is, no one ever replaced anyone. Special relationships are unique, irreplaceable. That doesn't mean you won't find other special relationships. It just means none of them will be like this one. And also, none of them will be like the next one either. Because they are all unique.
The more special ones you find, the less this one will hurt. It'll remain as special and unique, but you'll find that it's not the only thing that can satisfy certain aspects of your needs for connection. Other unique special relationships will emerge from the world around you over time, and they will teach you things.
It's a wonder, really. Truly a wonder. I remember when I lost my first special relationship. It felt like I let the most precious thing in the world slip away from me. But I found out that the most precious thing in the world wasn't that one relationship, it was actually our capacity as humans to find and build special relationships. By the time I am old and grey I will have had 5 or maybe even 10 special relationships. And that is a wonder.
I wish you peace and calm enough for you to smile on your memories.
Your posts make me feel less alone with what usually feel like unique miseries. I'm glad you're writing the goodbye letter, that sounds therapeutic and reasonably respectful of boundaries.
I know it's cliche and trite and all that, but it does get less shit. It does.