Dear Arnold,

Mrs. Bliss told me; that to be able to make myself the person I want to be I have to be honest with myself. And I'm not good at that. I'm not good with saying the things I need to say. I'm better at writing it. Maybe its the way I was raised; actually, it is. The only way I learned how to get attention was to be loud and use violence or keep to myself odd as that sounds. So when it came to showing any other normal emotion I used what I learned.

But the thing is I loved you so much. So much more than I can even possibly describe. But I loved you too much, I loved you to the extent I couldn't think straight. My love for you is toxic not just for me but for you. I was hateful towards you because I didn't know how to properly tell you how I felt. And that doesn't excuse my behavior; it just reiterates the fact that I need to let you go.

Maybe then I could possibly be the person I want to be when I'm around you. I'm just tired of using my anger towards you as a scapegoat because you don't deserve that... no one does. And I don't know why I chose you in this twisted love affair that's one-sided. The thing is I love you but I don't think I could ever possibly make you happy the way you deserve to be happy. Especially if I continue acting the way I am.

All I want in life is for you to be happy. So if loving you makes you unhappy then I will stop, I have to stop. And maybe it would be better if I cut myself out completely that way I don't hurt you in the process. If only I knew what the right decision in this is I would pick it. In all honesty, I don't want to stop loving you but for now its the best thing that I can do. So I'll write it as I can, I love you Arnold, but as of now I can no longer love you.

Even writing that makes me feel broken. Because for some strange reason you make me feel different than I am. I don't understand how you can even look me in my face after all the vile things I've done to you to our supposed friends.

I think the first step I have to take is letting you go. And it's weird writing this because for all these years I've imagined you being mine. The bitter truth of the matter is you where never mine, to, begin with. I have to swallow the pill that you probably never will be. Even if I change it doesn't change what I've done to you. For that, I'm so sorry. I'm nowhere near perfect but I hope that in doing this I can change for the better.

Yours truly

Helga