There’s a lot that could be said and a lot that could be talked about.

After all, I did just graduate. And it was a…sad moment. A crying moment. Only…let me make two points first.

The first is that I have never considered high school graduation or perhaps even college graduation to be particularly important. For many years, I have always considered both matter-of-fact moments in life that occur, neatly and without fail. It wasn’t until recently, perhaps the past year, maybe two, before I realized that both are rather important and meaningful and a point of congratulations in our society.

The second, or second-and-third, are two different quotes, from these past two days. The first is by me to you: “I wouldn’t even be crying if you weren’t here.” The second, said to me, “It’s the game of life. Or the game of relationships. And for some, the two are one and the same.”

So, I direct this at you. Maybe you don’t think it’s you, so let me make this abundantly clear. You are whatever the moon has always meant and what the sun will always sing.

I’m not entirely sure what I want to say. Perhaps I am here to refute each and every one of the points that you made in your 3.5 pages message. Because you are wrong because I do believe that we are significant and we shall always be no matter what the labels of high-school-relationship or almost-two-years sound like and because he wasn’t flirting with me for the past year and because you are still everything to me and because we can still have a future only a different future with a different together.

Only, I couldn’t do that—because a lot of what you wrote is true. 

In a way, I did betray you, and I shall never be able to make that up to you. And you did take me for granted and we did have good times and bad times to spare. And I was selfish—only, that’s the only reason I’m happy now. Isn’t that kind of sad? That the source of my happiness is selfishness. That I once gave up everything that was me to make you happy, only to give up when I realized that nothing I ever did for you would ever be enough. 

And it wasn’t and isn’t and I don’t think ever will be. Because you wrote that you finally realized that you took me for granted, except you still are. Doesn’t yesterday prove this?

Maybe I’m wrong—I would love for you to prove to me that I’m wrong—but I’m convenient. When you’re unhappy, when you don’t feel well, you come find me. But as soon as you feel better, as soon as someone, anyone else comes along, then I’m back to second-priority, back to Evelyn-who-will-always-constantly-be-there. Because I’ve proven this to you, because I’ve set that precedent. No matter what, I will be here. So why would you bother to put in any effort? There’s obviously been no need.

Why is it that, even now, I feel like you don’t quite understand certain things? Like you know it in your head but not in your heart, that all those times I tried to break up with you but couldn’t was the product of genuine misery and unhappiness with you. That, with you, the bad times outnumbered the good. That I never cared about all the promises you couldn’t keep so long as you tried. Except you won’t.

Aren’t I worth even an iota of effort? But no. I’m not even worth a face-to-face goodbye. 

I want to tell you here that I’m done, that I’m done with you and your worthless promises, that I’m going to say one last farewell one of these days and seal our memories in a box until the day when I can look back and won’t want to die because I miss you and I hate you and I love you so, so much when I never wanted to even have any fucking emotions but I can’t. 

Even now, I can’t let you go. Even now, you still mean the world to me. 

You don’t know this but in the past three months, I’ve said goodbye to you more times that I can count. I was going to let you go, I was going to give you up, I was going to stop this useless stream of effort and emotion and tears that only one person saw and shouldn’t even see. Only the next day, I’d tell myself no, trying is the most natural action for me. Even now, to put in effort into our fucking nonexistent relationship is the action most true to the person that I am. And maybe that’s why you will never, ever put in any effort for me.

Fuck you. Good night. I hope you sleep well.