An Unsent Letter to My First Love and BPD Ex: For my own closure

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

I wrote this letter as a means of therapy and closure for myself. It's been rough lately and I've been trying my best to comprehend my relationship so I can fully move forward and be ready for a healthy relationship. It's long but I feel like it covers my feelings on everything and I feel better after writing it down. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear from you guys.

Dear Shattered,

This letter will never reach your eyes, but there are things I wish I could ask you. I would ask you how you’re doing. I would ask you why you so desperately want to be friends and why you constantly ask about me and seek ways to insert yourself into my life. I would ask you how could you hurt me the way you did by telling my best friend that you slept with the very man you claimed no feelings for, a manipulative man who is 13 years older than you, only two weeks after our split from a year and a half long bond. How you could promise and assure me you’d never divulge my insecurities because you respect me too much and then proceed to tell my friend and no doubt countless others all about them. I would ask you how you could move on so quickly, and how you could lie to my face. I would ask you what else was a lie, but like all the rest, I wouldn’t trust your response.

The truth is, I know the answers to these questions already. The kind, sweet and caring girl I knew is no longer there because she was never there to begin with. You are a mirage, a shattered mirror that reflects a different image depending on where your standing. As much as I hate to label others, you are the sum of your condition and that’s the only lens in which your actions are logical.

I still think about all of the good times we shared, how you seemed to make me so happy, how I was so glad you were my first love, my first sexual partner, my best friend. We met when I was 20 and you were 17, and neither of us knew a thing about relationships or love, but we were ready to experience it with one another. I think of those first months, how they were a blur of happiness and completeness. They seem like a dream now. I think of when we went to IKEA for the first time and you showed me everything since I had never been there. When we would go out with friends and I was so proud to call you my own, to have someone have my back and be there for me when we went home after. Someone to share my happiness with. I think of the late nights underneath the stars, the relaxed evenings at your home with your parents, who felt like just as much my family as my own. Your compliments and reassurances lifting me up, and your resolve to help me face the obstacles in my life. It hurts me to think of these things now.

It wasn’t perfect though. From the beginning I could tell there was something wrong with our interactions. The way you would go from hot to cold in a matter of seconds. The way you would idolize me one day and demonize me the next. The way you treated your family and friends, one with rage and tantrums and the other with a cold disregard. The way you never apologized. The way you obsessed about hanging out, and guilted me if I requested time to myself. It got worse over time. The way you reacted to the notion of female friends, and accused me of untrustworthiness and ultimately leading to the severance of all my female friendships. The way you blatantly crossed my boundaries with your male friends and downplayed my feelings and concerns about it. The way you painted me as controlling and abusive when I all I asked for was equality, communication and compromise. The way you made me believe that about myself and made me question myself and ignore my gut instinct. The way you gaslighted me and made me question my sanity. The way you played games and would test me constantly. The way you lied to my face at the end and made me doubt every single thing I took for granted as truth after you convinced me otherwise. The way you began to inspire such an unspeakable rage within me that I have never felt before and never want to feel again. I knew it was time, and our breakup was mutual for that reason, even if your real reason was to be with your friend.

When I found out, I trembled with rage and despair, my mind replaying sickening visualizations of you and your new lover over and over again. Our innocence and intimate connection forever severed and desecrated and left in it’s place a feeling of disgust that tints every memory I have with you. It was only two weeks after we split, I was finally feeling better until you found a way to inform me without breaking my request for no contact. In a sense, your mission was a success, you got me thinking about you once again, obsessing even. I wondered if you cheated at the end, how much of our relationship was a lie. Did you even care about me? Are you even capable of love? Everything inside me wants to believe that you were sincere, that what we had was real, because it felt real to me. How can I take away from this relationship when your side of the relationship seems ethereal and false?

But you’ve made a mistake, and God am I thankful for it. You have finally released your death grip on my uncertainty. Uncertainty that I had made a poor decision, that I had thrown away a relationship that would be the best I could attain. Ideas that had been put into my head by you over the course of the relationship. Ideas prompted by the tearful and kind break-up, and your lips touching mine before we parted ways.

I am now sure of my decision. You have shown your true colors, and trust me I am paying attention. I wish I could have a dialogue with you. Tell you how much you hurt me. But I know now. I know why you do the things you do. I know a dialogue is not possible. That you would tell me what I want to hear and make me yearn once more, or blame it all on me and hurt me deeply with things I do not need to know. I know I wasn’t perfect, and I will learn from it, but it cannot be from you. This closure needs to be from within, because I am not about to let you pull me in once more with your manipulative words. I expect you to return, your condition has predicted your actions before and will predict them again. And I will be ready this time, to ignore you and your pleas. We will not be friends. Why in the world would I be friends with someone who has done the things you have?

I hope you find solace and help on your own someday, because I am done with you. You don't know of your condition, I never felt like I was in a position to tell you, but your mother knows. And I hope she will tell you one day or you will find out on your own because you deserve to escape your hellish unstable perspective. I know deep down you are a good person, and it pains me to see you suffer, but I cannot be the one to help you. Your actions are indistinguishable from your disorder, and thus even though I know your intentions are pure, it ultimately doesn't make a difference. Your condition has robbed me of a true partner to reflect upon. It makes me question our entire relationship. Thankfully I can still reflect upon my own actions separate from your own in order to learn and grow as a person. It may take me some time to get over you, but I know I am never going back and that is enough for me right now. I am dealing with my emotions the best that I can so I can be ready for a healthy relationship.

Because now I am ready. I am ready for someone real, someone consistent, someone else.

[dearshattered]

I wrote this letter as a means of therapy and closure for myself. It's been rough lately and I've been trying my best to comprehend my relationship so I can fully move forward and be ready for a healthy relationship. It's long but I feel like it covers my feelings on everything and I feel better after writing it down. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear from you guys.

Dear Shattered,

This letter will never reach your eyes, but there are things I wish I could ask you. I would ask you how you’re doing. I would ask you why you so desperately want to be friends and why you constantly ask about me and seek ways to insert yourself into my life. I would ask you how could you hurt me the way you did by telling my best friend that you slept with the very man you claimed no feelings for, a manipulative man who is 13 years older than you, only two weeks after our split from a year and a half long bond. How you could promise and assure me you’d never divulge my insecurities because you respect me too much and then proceed to tell my friend and no doubt countless others all about them. I would ask you how you could move on so quickly, and how you could lie to my face. I would ask you what else was a lie, but like all the rest, I wouldn’t trust your response.

The truth is, I know the answers to these questions already. The kind, sweet and caring girl I knew is no longer there because she was never there to begin with. You are a mirage, a shattered mirror that reflects a different image depending on where your standing. As much as I hate to label others, you are the sum of your condition and that’s the only lens in which your actions are logical.

I still think about all of the good times we shared, how you seemed to make me so happy, how I was so glad you were my first love, my first sexual partner, my best friend. We met when I was 20 and you were 17, and neither of us knew a thing about relationships or love, but we were ready to experience it with one another. I think of those first months, how they were a blur of happiness and completeness. They seem like a dream now. I think of when we went to IKEA for the first time and you showed me everything since I had never been there. When we would go out with friends and I was so proud to call you my own, to have someone have my back and be there for me when we went home after. Someone to share my happiness with. I think of the late nights underneath the stars, the relaxed evenings at your home with your parents, who felt like just as much my family as my own. Your compliments and reassurances lifting me up, and your resolve to help me face the obstacles in my life. It hurts me to think of these things now.

It wasn’t perfect though. From the beginning I could tell there was something wrong with our interactions. The way you would go from hot to cold in a matter of seconds. The way you would idolize me one day and demonize me the next. The way you treated your family and friends, one with rage and tantrums and the other with a cold disregard. The way you never apologized. The way you obsessed about hanging out, and guilted me if I requested time to myself. It got worse over time. The way you reacted to the notion of female friends, and accused me of untrustworthiness and ultimately leading to the severance of all my female friendships. The way you blatantly crossed my boundaries with your male friends and downplayed my feelings and concerns about it. The way you painted me as controlling and abusive when I all I asked for was equality, communication and compromise. The way you made me believe that about myself and made me question myself and ignore my gut instinct. The way you gaslighted me and made me question my sanity. The way you played games and would test me constantly. The way you lied to my face at the end and made me doubt every single thing I took for granted as truth after you convinced me otherwise. The way you began to inspire such an unspeakable rage within me that I have never felt before and never want to feel again. I knew it was time, and our breakup was mutual for that reason, even if your real reason was to be with your friend.

When I found out, I trembled with rage and despair, my mind replaying sickening visualizations of you and your new lover over and over again. Our innocence and intimate connection forever severed and desecrated and left in it’s place a feeling of disgust that tints every memory I have with you. It was only two weeks after we split, I was finally feeling better until you found a way to inform me without breaking my request for no contact. In a sense, your mission was a success, you got me thinking about you once again, obsessing even. I wondered if you cheated at the end, how much of our relationship was a lie. Did you even care about me? Are you even capable of love? Everything inside me wants to believe that you were sincere, that what we had was real, because it felt real to me. How can I take away from this relationship when your side of the relationship seems ethereal and false?

But you’ve made a mistake, and God am I thankful for it. You have finally released your death grip on my uncertainty. Uncertainty that I had made a poor decision, that I had thrown away a relationship that would be the best I could attain. Ideas that had been put into my head by you over the course of the relationship. Ideas prompted by the tearful and kind break-up, and your lips touching mine before we parted ways.

I am now sure of my decision. You have shown your true colors, and trust me I am paying attention. I wish I could have a dialogue with you. Tell you how much you hurt me. But I know now. I know why you do the things you do. I know a dialogue is not possible. That you would tell me what I want to hear and make me yearn once more, or blame it all on me and hurt me deeply with things I do not need to know. I know I wasn’t perfect, and I will learn from it, but it cannot be from you. This closure needs to be from within, because I am not about to let you pull me in once more with your manipulative words. I expect you to return, your condition has predicted your actions before and will predict them again. And I will be ready this time, to ignore you and your pleas. We will not be friends. Why in the world would I be friends with someone who has done the things you have?

I hope you find solace and help on your own someday, because I am done with you. You don't know of your condition, I never felt like I was in a position to tell you, but your mother knows. And I hope she will tell you one day or you will find out on your own because you deserve to escape your hellish unstable perspective. I know deep down you are a good person, and it pains me to see you suffer, but I cannot be the one to help you. Your actions are indistinguishable from your disorder, and thus even though I know your intentions are pure, it ultimately doesn't make a difference. Your condition has robbed me of a true partner to reflect upon. It makes me question our entire relationship. Thankfully I can still reflect upon my own actions separate from your own in order to learn and grow as a person. It may take me some time to get over you, but I know I am never going back and that is enough for me right now. I am dealing with my emotions the best that I can so I can be ready for a healthy relationship.

Because now I am ready. I am ready for someone real, someone consistent, someone else.

[C.Stein]

I sympathize with you.  My ex and I had a very similar experience as yours and it is hard having so many questions you know will never be answered.  I hope you can find some peace in days to come.

[WhatJustHappened?]

Very well-written letter dearshattered. I am sorry for your pain and disappointment. It's also sad to see so many letters with the exact same sadness and characteristics on this website. I hope you find peace my friend.

[asher2]

My favorite part of your letter is your last line where you write... .

"Because now I am ready. I am ready for someone real, someone consistent, someone else."

Those words are powerful and was happy to see they were included as part of your letter. Once you get to this point, you are on your way to healing. It does take time, but every step matters and what you wrote about in those words is a big part of it.

I'm three years out from my exBPD. I got married three months ago to someone real, someone consistent and someone totally different than who my exBPD was. My life couldn't be better, but it started with me getting to the point of which you wrote.

You are on your way. You will get there!