Whether you read this or not I have to write it. I don't know why, but it's just something I have to do. I won't make it any different from what it is, but this is something that I need to say.

I knew something was wrong since Friday night when I got in to Philadelphia, something seemed off at the train station in Glenside when I got into the car. I couldn't really think of what it was, but something was strange. I'd told myself then to let you be, to give you whatever space you needed this weekend. After the silent treatment I got in the car on the way back from Brigantine, I knew that was what I needed to do anyway. I'd overstepped my boundaries by a lot and since I left all I'd thought about was what I could do to fix it. Friday night, though, it just seemed like that's what you wanted, for me to leave you alone.

In the van to and from the mall you sat away from me, on the other side of the seat, barely talked to me at all, kept looking away, out the window. I knew something was on your mind, but I didn't know quite what it was. I was scared you were mad at me, but just thought it was a bad mood or something like that. I tried to justify it to myself, tried to make myself feel better.

All day long Saturday I thought you were mad at me, but I was afraid to ask you why. I wanted you to tell me yourself, that was the main reason I didn't want to stay at your house all day, I knew you wouldn't tell me there with all your family around. In the movie theater you kind of sat away from me again, just like in the van Friday night. I knew for certain then that it wasn't just a bad mood or something like that.

At Ann's, after a while I thought you'd forgiven me when we were sitting on the couch. You seemed like yourself again, and everything seemed normal. We got home, watched the movie in your room and afterwards, when we were holding each other, that moment I was to happy. Being with you, I can let go of all of the crap I have to deal with at school and home, I just feel right; last night wasn't any exception.

This morning, though, everything was back to being different. Clinging onto memories of last night desperately, I held onto you, not wanting to let go. I knew, though, that it wasn't right and soon I gave up. We walked out to the park and when you told me you wanted a break, I'd seen it coming. I asked if we can still be friends, and I really want to be. I don't know if you want that, though. When I said I want you to be happy, that I do know for sure.

Somehow it doesn't hurt as much as I thought. Maybe shock, that this has not set in yet. Maybe because I know that not being with me is what you need to be happy. I love you, likely always will, and want you to be happy more than anything else in the world.

When we started going out I wasn't thinking of your feelings, what it would do to you when I had to leave. I was only thinking of myself, and how good I felt with you, and it was wrong of me to do that. My words don't do what I need them to do, they never have, but for what it means I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for every time I have hurt you. For every time I wasn't there. For everything I should have been able to do. I was never the man you deserve, and I don't know if I ever will be.

I've already taken so much from you that it's unfair of me to ask any more, but I need to. I want you to promise to be happy and to not worry about me. The first, I hope, is the reason I am writing this letter to begin with. The second is something that I ask so that it is easier for you to be happy. I will be fine, don't feel bad about any of this. Please do these two things, if not for yourself, then for me.