We need to talk. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it. I have spent the last eleven months desperately trying to connect with you and I can’t do it anymore.
It may have been the buzz from the rum punch or maybe I got caught up in the euphoria of a New Year… I should have known better. I don’t know why I thought we’d be a good fit. Even worse, instead of cutting things off when I realised what I’d done, I committed myself to you! I was determined to see us through 2016. I was determined that we would make it.
I worked hard to include you in my life. I scheduled time with you every day. I even took you on my vacations. I was attentive. I poured myself into you. No other competed with you. There was such promise in those early days. We looked good together. It felt right. The Internet said we were perfect for each other. Sadly, the truth is our initial spark never turned into flames.
I regret not listening to my quiet inner voice that said we should part ways before we became too involved in each other’s lives. It’s so much harder and messier to break up when lives become irretrievably intertwined.
I realise now that I loved the idea of you. I loved what my life looked like with you in it. You made me seem like more of a creative spirit. I was in good company too. So many famous people who have accomplished great feats, written classic literature, and contributed life changing ideas to this world have kept journals.
Please don’t blame yourself. You did your best to make us work, to show me how you could be good for my life, my growth, my peace of mind. Nonetheless, I dread our daily routine. I open up your pages and put pen to paper but no words come. I actually have to will myself to say something, anything, to fill the silence. I don’t tell you what I really feel because I want to keep those thoughts to myself. I don’t have to articulate every emotion or every minute of my day. I have the memory of an elephant! I prefer to snuggle up with a book and tea to get away from my mind for a while.
Since I’m finally being 100% honest, there’s something else I need you to know. I don’t want you to hear it from anybody but me. I’m going back to my little notebook. I know it pales in comparison to your beauty and stature but that little notebook is really all that I need. I can scribble my random thoughts and doodle stick figures whenever I feel like it. No pressure. No obligation.
The writer for you is out there. One day, she’ll make you forget that we failed at “us”.