I've learned not to hate myself for who I have been and how I have behaved because it only makes me destroy again. But I still miss you so much. I miss the good parts of our intensity. I miss our shared mind, our stupid jokes, how god damn hard you always tried to understand when I didn't even deserve your understanding. I really loved you and you really loved me, and it's been a very long time now but my heart is never going to be at peace knowing how I treated you, knowing how this fucking sickness ruined one of the best and most special things I have ever known in my life.

How hard you tried to still be my friend and be there for me even after things ended because you understood so well, and how I threw that in your face over the pettiest argument in a drunken haze because I didn't want to live. And it was me not wanting to live that made me traumatise you so. Always. I just expected you to carry my burden and splitting and depression and moods shifting, I made you afraid of me and afraid of expressing yourself for fear of how I would react because seeing you upset would make me so upset, I'd make it about me. I almost jumped off your balcony one night in a drunken depressive stupor. I just expected you to be able to love someone who did things like that. I don't think I've ever written that down or even told anyone, but it's the truth and I have to own it. I'd hurt myself all the time because I thought I had hurt you, that I "deserved" to suffer because I had upset you. I hurt you and used your pain for my own egocentric loop of self-flagelation. In my head it was the "right" way to react, in reality it showed you I cared about no one but myself.

On the last night when you told me you couldn't do this anymore, you held me while my arm bled out onto the bed. That was the last time you ever held me. I didn't deserve that kindness in that moment but you gave it to me because you loved me. I always told myself you didn't love me, its a lot of why I acted that way. I find it so hard to sit here in the same place knowing that these things happened. I hurt you so much. We were supposed to be in love. You can't hurt someone you love like that. I'm so sorry, and it's a sorry I'll carry with me for the rest of my life because nothing I do can ever make it up to you. I struggle thinking I'm not a monster sometimes, especially when I think of you and everything I put you through.

I never meant to hurt you. I really didn't. We'll never speak again now, but I hope that when we're gone from here at the end of all things that our souls meet again and we'll understand each other once more. I never chose to be like this, and I'm sorry that my illness did this to us and to you. I'll always love you. You once said you would always love me too. I know that there was something profound and real in what we shared, I'm sorry that my monster turned it into a horror. I hope sometimes when you think of me, you can remember the good parts too. That's what I try to do. 

My intuition tells me you've found someone now, I hope that they are the best person you can possibly have by your side, and I hope that they can love you in the ways that I was not capable of. You deserve nothing less, and I will always be grateful for everything you taught me, everything you gave me, and the person you are.  I'm alone now, and I think I have to be alone. Maybe for the rest of my life, maybe just for a time. I'm doing a lot better these days, but I made you a promise that I would never put another person through what I put you through, and until I'm certain of that I have to be alone. If I suffer, I suffer.  I am through living a life that causes suffering for others, I would rather suffer alone if needs be.  Bless you, and thank you, and I'm sorry for everything I was. I hope I can live a life that makes up for it, and I hope that your life is as wonderful and full of beauty as it can possibly be. You'll never read these words and maybe it's better that way. I will always love you. See you at the end of time.