or The You Is Silent, Part Two
 

Daisy, meet Clara.
Daisy, rounding things off a bit, I am to you what Clara is to me. All three of us have high ideals, Daisy, it’s true. We would like for things to be different, and we’d probably like to treat each other better than we do.

But that’s not the way things have been going.

Regardless of what I say to you and what she says to me, our actions have spoken far louder than our words. And what our actions have said about us is this: whether intentionally or not, I rate you low on my list of things of importance.

In short, my intrinsic belief is that I have a higher value than you. I put my whims above your wishes. And while putting ourselves first might be important to us, even at a basic, human level, it isn’t love.

Everyone needs to be loved, Daisy.

You need someone who loves you, who wants you, and who makes time for you even if isn’t always perfectly convenient for them. You deserve someone – many someones even – who will take pleasure in sometimes even inconveniencing himself or herself to make you happy. That’s why you need to put me out of your life, Daisy.

It’s not that I’m a bad person, it’s that I’m bad for you.

I know that cutting down or even rooting out my importance to you will hurt you a lot. I would be crazy if I said that it will be a breeze for me to wean myself off wanting Clara, and I would be lying if I told you that it’s going to be easy to stop yourself from wanting me the way you do.

I have earned it through my choices to let you down again and again. They have revealed the person I am, at least when juxtapositioned with you, and you deserve better persons in your life.

Daisy, you are going to forget about me like I am going to forget about Clara. You’ll still remember who I am and what did and did not happen between us, but when I say forget I mean that thinking about it won’t crush you like it does now. The memory of me may still always hurt you just like the memory of Clara will always make my fingertips cold and feel like a needle in my chest, but it will be a numb, distant pain. A manageable pain.

A pain covered by years and smothered by brighter moments of sea, sand, and sun.

But, Daisy, I beg you to please try to remember this feeling in the future, when someone else’s world comes crashing down around them for you. When you are bad for someone. When you have to ask them to cut you out.

Please be gentle to the Daisy in your life.