You aren’t dead, but you were dead to me until you came back into my life yesterday. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about it all. I’m married now, I had moved on. But now you’re back and apologizing.<\/p>\n
When I walked out that day, I had to find my own closure. And I did just that. I gave myself no time to grieve the break up, I lost all my friends that day I walked out, because your friends were my friends. I was numb. I didn’t cry. But somehow, burying myself into something bigger than me helped me move on. A piece of me died the day I walked out, and it stayed in that doorway of the apartment. But, what I learned was, the piece of me that died, I don’t miss. A large part of my identity was you. I didn’t allow myself to be strong and independent because my whole life I’ve only cared to care for those around me, but that day, a large chunk of that died when I walked out. <\/p>\n
I never spoke to you again. I made peace with it. Then, you moved back home to Alabama, and last night, I found myself speaking to you once again. I don’t know what to feel, should I cry now? Is it finally time to grieve the loss? Should I be pissed that you waited 3 years to apologize? Why do I have the same butterflies choking me that I had the night I met you? Why are you back now so suddenly? Now that you are 615 miles away? <\/p>\n
I didn’t get closure for 3 years, so why am I trying to help give you closure now?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
You aren’t dead, but you were dead to me until you came back into my life yesterday. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about it all. I’m married now, I had moved on. But now you’re back and apologizing. When I walked out that day, I had to find my own closure. And […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1417","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-love-letters"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1417","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1417"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1417\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1417"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1417"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1417"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}