My Dearest Xxxxxxxx,
I can feel myself slipping away slowly. I am on the edge yet again and I can barely hold on. I have been strong and steadfast, I’ve held my front. But I can’t keep it together any longer. As I write this letter, I am afraid of what I am about to do, about who I am about to become.
I wish not to go back to being that sad, pathetic excuse of what I was. Your silence has left me in nothing but confusion, with nothing but heartache. It is actually starting to hurt again, a feeling I was most done with. It was almost like your presence, your words merely masked the true damage of what I had done to myself.
The temptation to pick up a glass, another cigarette, is strong. But I have come so far. Five days without a drink, five days without a vice, four days without You. It will ruin me, I know this, yet I do not fear it. I cannot and I will not, let you have so much over me. I am grasping at every possible sight of you, but I have nothing.
It is true that I am blinded by love, but surely, I cannot be this stupid. Surely, I would have realised my mistake by now. As a friend said, so will I finally listen. I am spacing myself from you. I know that I need to.