Letter's we cannot send....

I wasn’t going to respond, it would only give you a false hope. But I will plead with you one last time; spare my soul the anguish that is you. I told you when we crossed the line; I would never be able to come back to what we were. You are not the only one that lost a good friend. I realized I never really knew you, and that the friend I believed I had was some figment of my own imagination. You always were who you were; I was just dumb enough to allow my heart to blind me from that. The realization of who you really are was more heartbreaking then losing you. I could not have changed you, and I was tired of trying to change people. It is like my soul seeks out those who need to be loved, but cannot truly love in return; at least not the way I need to be loved. That I am sure does not exist. What I do know is that I exist, and wish to continue existing even though there are days I question it. The war that is my brain, this insane knowledge, is also my muse. And though sometimes my reality slips from me, the alternate reality it allows me to create keeps me alive. There will be others I am sure, I am only human after all. But my true and only love is that of my craft, my writing; my one true sanity.
Forgive me but the love I once held for others I have turned inward, allowing only my creative sense to truly access it. Without all of you I am just alone, without my writing I am nothing. A slave to the world with no escape. I have slowly started to embrace the madness that is me and it is something I no longer fear.
As with the others, I have come to also let you pass. My mind is finally at peace, in its own way. My soul has been mending and my heart has finally learned to forget. We were what we were, but that is no longer and honestly never was…

Good luck old friend