It’s no secret that you’ve been the inspiration for a few of my articles, but unfortunately this is the last one. You’re one of the biggest fans of my writing, so it’s only fitting that I unload all of my final thoughts here. The reason I wanted to end it after our perfect weekend together was so that I could do it before you inevitably did, not because I didn’t want us to continue. During our last phone conversation, the first time that you referred to our experiences in the past tense, I started tearing up because I already knew what the rest of the conversation would sound like. There were so many things I wanted to say during our last conversation, so that you knew how I felt about you, that I was feeling the same things you were and so that you knew how much the past three months have meant to me, but I was so hurt, I felt like I couldn’t speak. And anything I would say would come out sounding like a fruitless attempt to make you change your mind and try to convince you that somehow we could make this work. Even now, this letter almost seems like a last ditch effort to keep the door slightly ajar for the possibility of more, but I can assure you that it’s not.

I haven’t felt the way I felt about you since my last relationship, which was five years ago. I think I’ve mentioned to you before that in my adult dating life, I’ve had issues with getting into girlfriend territory. I get to the same point every time and can’t cross that threshold of becoming someone’s girlfriend. For us, I know that this hugely had to do with our geographical situation, but it’s been such a recurring theme in my love life that it’s hard not to fall into the trap of viewing it as a potential character flaw and wondering why I’m not good enough. “If someone wants to be with you, they will,” that sort of thing. I figured if you could experience our connection in person, how effortless and natural it felt, it would be enough to make us both want more. Our connection was strong, but apparently not strong enough. You said the logistics of making time for each other wasn’t the hard part, it’s that the idea of building up a connection and then actually coming together just to have to say goodbye and do it all over again wasn’t attractive to you. But the translation for that sounded like “you’re not worth it” to me, even though I know (or hope) that’s not the case. And somehow the idea attracted you when you booked your flights, so it makes me wonder if this was supposed to be a one time thing all along.

It hurts knowing that I did all of the right things. I knew your love languages: quality time, physical touch and words of affirmation. I had all of the information, I gave it to you and you received it. But still, even after doing the right things, I couldn’t get past that point. I couldn’t cross over. I said and did what I said I was going to do and maybe that came as a shock to you, but that’s who I am. I am always that way. It wasn’t just a three day act to keep you interested. I always listen to people and am sensitive to what they want or like or need. I know that meant a lot to you and it meant a lot to me that you were receptive to that and appreciated it.

The conversation of being able to give you what you need was something I was putting off until we were just about ready for the “what are we” talk. I knew we wouldn’t be able to get takeout and spontaneously see a movie on a Tuesday night. Or that I wouldn’t be able to bring coffee to you at work. We’re both deserving of a relationship where those scenarios could happen. I couldn’t give you what you need, but you could’ve easily given me what I need. I think ascribing our conversations over the past three months to a lead up until the weekend we’d see each other discounts what we had. Of course I wanted to see you and touch you and be together in person, but our conversations and our whole dynamic was more than preparation for your arrival.

You said you were more than a little disappointed that I felt dumb after all of this. Maybe ‘duped’ would be a better word. You knew that not feeling physical touch in a relationship was unhealthy for you. That was not news to you. You knew that before you came to see me, yet you still did. You knew I’d probably be moving to the other coast for the summer, but you knew I would most likely end up in New York in the fall and I recall you referring to the five hour drive as a breeze, something that could easily be done. You said that you literally can’t go without the physical aspect of a relationship after I had already fallen for you. We were nothing but completely transparent with each other for three months and you couldn’t communicate that caveat to me. I don’t intend this to be a public shaming of how you hurt me, but I still haven’t figured out a way to not blame you for not being upfront about that necessity before flying to see me.

I know that when I asked you to just say the words “it’s over,” it was hard for you. But hearing you say “it’s not that it’s over, it’s that I can’t” may have been just as bad. Because after all of the relationships you’ve been through, and where you’re at with the changes you’ve made in your life, I feel like you should’ve known what you can and can’t deal with in a relationship. You said you feel drawn to the idea of long distance relationships, knowing that physical touch is an absolute must for you. I urge you to dig deeper into that, because in future relationships, you run the risk of making people feel like they are experiments to you, which is what I feel I was perceived as.

We’ve learned so much from each other the past three months and I know that my time together with you, along with our conversations has provided me with invaluable lessons. Maybe we should’ve had that “what comes next” conversation earlier, but I don’t have any regrets about the way things happened. We enjoyed being in the present. What I hope you take away from this is to keep working on yourself. Be honest with yourself. Be honest about your intentions, especially when feelings are involved. Find where that attraction to long distance situations comes from so that you can figure out how to make it easier for people to be able to give you what you need. Maybe you’ll learn that you can find a healthy way to commit to long distance. You know you might surprise yourself.