And Again, To You:

I wrote to you last year, so it's fitting that I write to you again, almost exactly one year later. Can you believe another year has passed? It seems to have slipped through my fingers, through both of ours perhaps. Everything seems different, but it isn't really, it never is. We live in patterns, you and I. There are always slight situational variations, just to keep things interesting, but underneath it all, we repeat ourselves. Our words, our actions, our feelings, all constant.

This year, though, I really believed you. You told me you were in love with me, that you wanted to be with me, and I fell for it-- for the third time no less-- hook, line, and sinker. But then you changed your mind, just as you always do, and left me heartbroken and scrambling to pick up the pieces of myself that you had broken this time. We've never been separated before, and I think the distance made my heart hurt even more. Nevertheless, I managed to pull myself together, yet again, and move on with my life as well as I possibly could.

We fought, for a while. I threw thorned words that I knew would hurt you the most, and you played the martyr. I cried more than I think I ever have and was depressed for a time. I felt terrible for hurting you, but even worse because you had had the nerve to hurt me first, again, so I justified my actions as right and even fair. I grew to resent you and I hated myself for it, but I hated you more, so what did it matter?

Fighting tired us out. We eventually reached our breaking point, and a wave of relief crashed over me. I had missed you, missed the way we were. There was no going back though, not after all that was said and done. We were closer, knew each other better, and it was then that it occurred to me that I would always be able to rely on you, on our friendship. Over the years, I believe what we have has become indestructible. I will always love you, and I know you feel the same way. You will never be absent from my life, as I so feared a year ago. Even if, for some reason I cannot fathom, you faded from me slowly, you would not be gone. That is simply impossible.