I've moved on as much as I can

You may have seen my posts about this person I used to be friends with—I wish I could tell you their name, because it’s such a cool name, but alas, they will always be, to you, the person who won’t talk to me anymore, my ex-friend, or them.

I think I’ve moved on, but not in the way everyone expects me to. Because I fucking can’t, and don’t want to—I am not just lovesick when I tell you how special they are as a person, and it’s not just a symptom of BPD when I tell you how special they are to me. I will always remember them, and nobody will ever replace them, and I’ll always wonder where they are and how they’re doing. If I believed in God I’d pray for them every night.

And I’m not saying this because I’m obsessed. I was obsessed, and I’m ashamed of that, but I don’t think I am anymore, but everyone wants it to be that because it isn’t fucking normal to feel this way. It isn’t fucking normal to have the kind of life I’ve had, either. Or the kind of life they’ve had.

When a friend of mine reached out to them and they said I needed to move on, I had an absolute meltdown. I said so many cruel and awful things—not to them, thank fuck—and for a short while all the love I felt for them combusted into hate. And then I felt ashamed because I remembered who they are. They aren’t a mean person. I really can’t see them hating me, or anyone.

I damaged their trust in me and probably broke their heart. They gave me a lot of chances and a lot of patience and I fucked everything up.

So I’ve moved on in the sense that I’ve sort of made peace with their being gone forever. It makes me sad but I’m not destroying myself over them, and I’m not going to beg for their forgiveness and for them to come back. I’d rather they never hear my name or be reminded of me ever again, if I make them as uncomfortable as it seems like I do. I’ll always have daydreams of bumping into them again, but I only want that to happen if they aren’t going to be freaked out by seeing me.

I’m going to write them one last goodbye letter, which my friend will relay to them if they want to read it. If they don’t, that’s fine, and I understand why.