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An open letter to someone I loved...

An open-letter, because words when I'm faced with you fail me, but I want you to know. You are the one I loved in too much in too little time.

You came into my life, you made me happier than I've ever been, the happiest I've ever felt and I truly fell head over heels in love with you. A love I didn't know existed, a love I used to laugh at when friends told me about it and truthfully never thought existed.

Something so powerful that it hurt; in the best possible way. Something so powerful that the fear of losing it paralysed me.

Within a month, I'd begun thinking of our future. What would happen in 1 year, 2 years' and so forth - and you planned with me. We discussed our dreams, our empires, our seven-figure salaries paired with our house in the City accompanied by houses across the UK in places I'd never even visited.

We discussed moving abroad, taking our dreams elsewhere but together. We discussed things that were so far off, but seemed so possible when wrapped up with you, in you.

When I was with you anything seemed possible; you made me want to do more, be more and see more. You gave me a lease of life I'd needed for so long, something to look forward to and aim towards.

Someone to aim towards those things with.

I genuinely thought that you and I were against it all; I thought we could withstand the world and everything it threw at us.

Within just three-months we'd endured one of the worst things I'd ever had to go through; and you were my rock. You held me when I needed to be held, you told me how great I am (because I am) when I thought I was nothing and you showed me that glimmer of hope in a world of darkness.

The love I felt for you felt unbreakable, I thought it could never end.

Every plan, dream and ambition I had begun to have you tangled through it, stopping it from truly growing because as my love shifted to something more unhealthy, my dreams begun to shrink in my fear of losing you.

But the problem is the love I felt was a love out of need, not a love out of want. A love which stemmed from the fact I didn't love myself enough, a love that was routed in my deeply unhappy inner-self.

A love that was only palpable because I allowed it to be. A love that flourished in my need to be needed, my need to be wanted.

Perhaps you could sense that; perhaps you knew that every day the happiness I felt was being dragged out of me by circumstantial depression and maybe that's why you cheated. Maybe that's why we both grew apart, you resenting me and me trying to claw back the feeling I'd felt just weeks before.

Maybe you cheated because you knew we weren't right for each other - or maybe you are just a bad person - I don't know. But despite it all, despite any excuse you could give, you knew it had the potential to break me.

I'd told you of the pain I'd felt before, finding out before and yet you still did it. You cheated, you lied and you hurt me.

So I guess, for both of us, what we had was never true love. It was never the love we had in our heads, it was never the fairytale I'd so strongly hoped it would be.

Truth be told - it was a good thing that could never sustain the intensity it brought. The cracks begun to show in a surface I'd thought was stronger than anything in a mere few weeks, but I frantically tried to patch them together again. Pathetically suggesting attempts of 'date nights' and fun things to do in a bid to keep you within my grips, in a bid to not lose you.

But that isn't right. You should never have to hold someone so close out of fear of losing them. The pain and fear I felt was the fear of losing that feeling, the risk of not waking up feeling loved.

Because that's the thing; if something is meant to be then it will. If people are meant to be, then they will be.

I could cry all day over the loss I feel; but I won't let it break me, as much as it nearly has, because we just weren't meant to be.

You taught me amazing things, gave me the push I needed to want to explore the world and re-introduced my love for reading back to me. The memories we've made will live with me forever, most affectionately Winston who will never cease to exist unless he goes in the washing machine, and some of the best times in my, short, life have been with you.

Whilst I'm tearfully saying goodbye to a chapter of my life that I thought would manifest into a book, I look back with a sense of happiness. I learnt that my heart is bigger than I ever thought it could be, I learnt that I capable of love and that some day, someone will appreciate that.

Once upon a time yours,

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