train stations

xx.

Dear W,

It's been so long since I ran out the door and to the train station, since everything I knew melted away.

It's been really hard on me, and I haven't been open with you, not the way I should have been. I'm not perfect, and I know I've hurt you. I haven't seen you in so long, but I realize the love I had for you was still love—yes, not the kind of love you had for me. But you were still my best friend for a very long time.

I wish it could have been different with us. I wish I hadn't spent so long trying to fix myself, when I realize now that I wasn't broken. Love isn't something you can treat like a disease. I'm sorry for pretending it was.

I don't want to focus on "if I had" because I've made a lot of mistakes. In accepting my humanness, this is something I had to understand. My mistakes don't make me any less human. And being myself isn't a mistake.

The time we spent together was still important to me, and I know you loved me. But you'll find someone else that makes you feel calm, instead of the whirlwind we experienced. Storms die, but the quiet will always remain beneath it all. If there is no quiet, everything dies when the storm dies.

One day, I hope I can know you again, in a way that we both deserve.

Until then, I hope we both find the happiness and the comfort we need. I've finally found a home, and I've finally found comfort with who I am. I think living is best for both of us.

—Remembered