M. was one of the first people I ever went on a date with and, while the romantic part of the relationship wasn't there, I loved him to pieces. We started hanging out all the time. We took drives. We went out to dinner. We sat and talked. He was a wonderful friend to me during a terrible time. He was a source of support and a confidante and a cheerleader.
M. met someone and fell deeply in love, and it was a joy to watch. He bloomed and grew and his happiness was contagious. He moved to the east bay and--despite my happiness for him--I was sad that he was going so far away. I knew it would take extra work to keep in touch, but I was fine with that. It was worth it.
I've never seen him again.
There were a couple of cursory emails since then, but that was all. It hurts me. I've struggled with how to handle this. I told myself it wasn't all about me. I know it's not. I told myself that I would let him know that I was here if and when he wanted to be in touch. I can't be in limbo that way anymore.
I wrote him and told him we needed to break up as friends, because I can't be in limbo about our friendship anymore and I'm so tired of crying over people who are now gone. Maybe it seems bitchy. Maybe it seems selfish. Maybe it seems heartless.
I just needed to prune the hedges. Everything is way overgrown around here.