The first thing I think about when I wake up everyday is that you’re gone. The last thing I think every nigth before falling asleep is that you’re gone. In between those two thoughts, I manage to get out of bed and get stuff done. I’d be lying if I told that I’m depressed or sad. I used to think that leaving you would be a million times worse that it’s actually being. I miss you so much it could kill me, that’s true, but I can bear whit that risk. I love you and the last thing in the world that I’d like to do is what I’m doing: abandoning you. But you’ve left me with no other choice. It’s you or me. It was me or she. And you never chose, so finanlly I had to do it on your place. It’s been some time since a part of me has been growing more powerful, pushing me to grow up and forget about this story.
To stand firm on my decision, I try to ‘convince’ myself that you have died and, despites I want it so much, there’s no way you’re coming back because death is irreversible. The only problem with that trick is that I have to see you every single day in front of my eyes. I try to think that the person I see is not the real you, the person I used to know, but a double someone has put in your place after your death. And that’s how I survive minute by minute. Trying not to think much about the things that united us, the ideas, thoughts and experiences we had in common, the happy days we spent together. At least I could spend some time with you, at least I knew what it is like to feel close to someone, at least I came to know everything about human heart. But it’s hard to stay apart and see how you go back slowly to the place you should have never come out from, where I cannot reach you, where you belong to the others. Anyway it’s more important the arrival than the goodbye.
I’m changing again. I think I’m a complete adult now. There’s no trace of the innoncence I carried with me. Something has died deep inside of my soul with you. It’s the end of an era, the end of the person I was. And sometimes I wish I could go back in time and be that person again, I wish I could skip to the beginning and live it all over again. But I can’t. When I met you years ago, I felt like I could make an effort to know someone, to let him into my life, because I feared loneliness. Now, I’m not afraid of loneliness anymore. That is the fact that scares me the most: it seems to me I don’t need anyone, anymore.
Before I forgot it, I didn’t tell you when I said goodbye to you that I love you. I’m not sure in which form, I think love is always the same. I wish things could have been different. I wish I didn’t have to leave you this way.