[05.05, 04/3/2023] Luc:
Every day I ask myself if this decision was right, yet no answer ever comes. Not because I don't know what to say, but because silence has become my only companion now. I left you not because you weren't enough, but because I could never be what you needed. There is an emptiness within me that I could never fill, and I knew, if I stayed by your side, that emptiness would have consumed you too.
For so long, I lived behind the mask of lies I built myself. Every time you looked at me, with your unwavering love and concern, I could feel the cracks forming in the façade. You were so sincere, so full of love, while I continued to falsify everything—my smile, my calm, even my happiness. I know you sensed it, though you never dared ask more. You only asked if I was alright, and I gave you the same hollow answer, "Yes, I'm fine," though each word tasted bitter and empty. I know deep down, you felt the lie, but you loved me too much to confront the truth you feared would break you.
I chose to pretend because I was terrified that if you saw the real me, you would leave first. Perhaps it was cowardice, perhaps selfishness, but I could not bear the thought of you seeing me for what I am—empty, lost, broken. I know that, while we were together, I faked almost everything. I crafted a version of myself to shield you from worry, so you wouldn't have to witness the darkness that haunted me every day. You once said I was your protector, someone who made you feel safe. But how could I protect you when I couldn't even protect myself from the shadows that loomed over my every breath?
Even after I've left, there isn't a single day that passes without me wondering how you are. Are you alright? Have you found the happiness you so deserve? These questions haunt me, even though I know I have no right to ask. Perhaps this is what remains of my selfishness, a lingering desire to still be part of your world, even though I know I mustn't intrude. But I cannot lie to myself—though I am no longer with you, my thoughts still drift towards you. Where are you now? What are you doing? Have you forgotten me, or does my shadow still linger at the edges of your days as yours does in mine?
Our time together, at first, felt like an escape from the void that consumed me. You brought color to my grayscale existence, made me believe that perhaps there was something beautiful that I could grasp. But as the days passed, it became clearer that those colors were never meant for me. They were yours, and I was only an observer, trying to immerse myself in a beauty I could never own. And the closer I came, the more I realized I was dragging you into the void that I carried with me. I didn't want you to feel that emptiness. It was easier for me to pretend, to create a version of myself that you might have desired. But in reality, every smile I gave, every word "i am fine" I uttered, was just another small lie that piled on top of one another until the weight became unbearable.
Now I wander far, yet no matter how far my legs carry me, your shadow never leaves my side. You are in every corner, every darkened hallway of my thoughts. Every step pulls me back to you, though I know I cannot return. I feel unworthy of you—not because of any fault or failure, but because of the belief I've carried within me for so long: that I am a man born to be estranged, set apart. Perhaps, deep down, I always knew that our bond was fragile. Not because our love was not strong enough, but because I was never strong enough to accept the love you offered me.
You once gave me hope, hope that our togetherness could be an escape from the darkness in my soul. But the closer I came, the more I realized that I was a man lost. And now, even though we are no longer together, I remain lost. I feel like a man adrift in a sea of emotions I cannot grasp, stranded in the fog of my own making. Perhaps this is my fate—to remain lost, without direction, without someone to lead me back. Yet there is a small solace in this suffering—at least you are free from the torment I carried.
I do not expect you to forgive me, because that would only make things harder. To forgive me would be to accept my choice, to accept the reality that I have left you. And I don't want you to have to accept that. Let me drown in this mistake, in the belief that leaving was the only right thing I have ever done. I hope, somewhere in the pain I have created for myself, I can find something resembling peace. And you, I hope you find the happiness I could never give you.