I've had the urge to write something--anything -- for days now. But now that I'm sitting down to do it my need for outletting has seemed to go numb.

I'm having trouble finding the motivation to make words into meaning or meaning into words. But let us begin...

I have been on the verge of tears for over a week now, but I have yet to cry. I WANT to cry -- because unlike you, I know that crying would let some of this rot out-- but I just don't have the energy to do it. I AM WORN OUT from our relationship. I AM TIRED of disappointment. I AM ANGRY that I have to give up on you.

You finally made it to the US. Great. Good for you. And besides the fact that you've been adamant for months now that you would definitely make it out to Denver, I know that it just isn't going to happen. After a week had gone by, I was almost hoping you just wouldn't call me at all, because then I could truly be mad at you. I have never been able to blame you, because I have always "blamed" your situation instead -- your struggling family structure, and the other roots to all of your issues. Being mad at you would not only, and without a doubt, put the FAULT on you, but it would also allow me to move on. However, you called. A week too late, but accompanied by the description of your vacation as a "family crisis", so I am left blaming the situation instead of you. But it is STILL your fault. I am not making excuses for you anymore. You are now a measly 900 miles away instead of 6,000. You are now on my side of the world. If only you had actually gotten your ass together and made arrangements and plans. If only you stuck out your neck a little and TRIED to communicate with your father then maybe he'd be more willing to help you get out here. If only you didn't put shit off until it was too late... I am FURIOUS and HURT and disappointed and I want to direct it at you.

The fact that you are not coming to see me is only part of the blow. I mean, I never truly expected that you would make it here -- but I HOPED with every inch of my soul that you would. I wanted to believe that for once you would actually come though on something--on time. You asked me if I could go meet you in Oakland, and why the hell not? But I just can't--won't. I have to detach myself from this dream I've been trying to keep alive. The whole point of you coming to Denver is so that you could see me in my element--know ME more. And so that YOU would be making the effort. How many times have I daydreamed about showing you my favorite bit of mountains, or taking you to that Hard-core recordstore that you would just go crazy in, or just cuddling on my couch watching movies?

But the realization is clear now that YOU ARE NEVER COMING. I guess I already knew that -- why else was I so sad to leave London last time? Because I knew I wouldn't be seeing you for a long time...indefinitely. And you know what is really fucked up? While Its tearing me apart, you are just lying to yourself about how everything is OK. You can never give me back one fucking emotion about us! You just swallow it whole and bury it. It sits in your black-hole soul with the rest of your buried shit.

You lied to me. When we sat in the green kitchen all those months ago until dawn, you told me that all you wanted was a girl who you could love and take on picnics and watch the sunset with. Am here I am and you are pushing me away. You put the umbrella down so we could kiss in the rain and that was true love. But you've reduced it to distance. For most girls, one letter every couple of months WOULD push them away. But not me. I was hurt but I "understood" you. I'm angry at how much I've given myself to you and you haven't given back. I'm angry that your history is so fucked up that you can't love yourself. I'm angry at myself for keeping hope and setting myself up for rejection again and again. What about ME? What about all the shit I'm going through with this? But you are the one dealing with all the suppression and issues--and I am fully supportive of your needs and numbness.

Maybe we should have never left the comfort of being best friends, especially since I was moving home in a month. Maybe I shouldn't have fallen IN LOVE with you. And of course, being "friends" is the logical thing to do--the EASY thing to do. But fuck you, that's complete bullshit. You know it and I know it. You can't for one second tell me that you don't love me. Your defense wall is getting so high, that I'm standing right in front of you and you can barely even see me.

I break my emotions down for you and you are a poker face. You would read this letter and file it away in some corner. God forbid you let anything GET TO YOU anymore. That is why I'm not sending you this. Knowing that it doesn't make a difference because you don't know it exists is much healthier for me. Maybe if I stepped outside of myself for a minute, I would look at you in new light as being an asshole. I wish you were. It would be easier than giving up on my soul mate, and the person I respect above all others.

But I have to start giving up. I have to distance myself from you just as you are from me. Mutual indifference is what will save me. I am not going to write you anymore or tell you those "I love yous" that I know your soul needs for sanity's sake. I don't know when I'll see you again. By the time I do, I hope that all of this will be at the small end of a microscope. I will wonder what it was like to be hurt by you. I am so sad to think that we will soon be grown apart. I'm afraid we won't know eachother anymore. I'm even more afraid that you won't even try to regain my love and affection.

I will always wonder how my life would be if our situation was different. And I will always love you.

Unconditionally

Molly