A message I’ll likely never get the chance to send.

You’ve blocked me on everything so you’ll likely never read this, but it’s been almost five months since you broke up with me out of the blue. We were talking about getting married, then you ended things. I admit, I wasn’t pulling my weight there at the end, and I have to live with that mistake for the rest of my life. But where’s my second chance? I gave you one when you fucked up. When you ghosted me for over a week. I was worried sick. I didn’t know where you were, if you were okay or even alive, if you hated me, if I did something wrong, if this was the end of us. Then one day you texted me, apologizing and explaining yourself. I heard you out, and was still pretty pissed. The next time I saw you, I saw how sorry you really were and you took full responsibility, even apologizing, saying that you could’ve found a way to reach out. While still upset, I gave you another chance and I was so happy that I did. Our love grew into something I’ve never experienced before, and things were great. We began talking about marriage and at that point I took my foot off the gas. I fucked up. I stopped pulling my weight, and I’m sorry. Granted, I was in a bit of a transitionary period in my life, but I still should’ve done more. Then your parents divorced, and your life was flipped on its head and you began rethinking everything. Including us. Fuck that hurt to type. Soon after, you broke up with me, and I spiraled into depression for the first time in my life, and I’m still depressed. I’ve spent these last five months doing anything and everything to work on myself and try to mend things between us, but you’ve kept me at arms length, wanting instead to move on, to burn bridges, but why? What we had was amazing. Where’s my second chance? If I got one, I wouldn’t need a third. You say you don’t know what you want out of life, and frankly neither do I. Shit hasn’t exactly gone according to plan. But one thing that hasn’t changed for me, is that I want to share the rest of my life with you. I could be scrubbing toilets for the rest of my life, and I’d do it with a smile if it meant afterwards I could go home to you. I want nothing more than for our story to not be over, and the ball’s in your court at this point. I love and miss you.