these farewells weren't inevitable, but there's no going back

I wonder if you would miss me if we weren't friends. There seem to be plenty of people you've lined up to replace me. I would miss you. But I can't force myself to like people, so I guess it's just not going to work out.

It would be different if I were different. It's always that way, isn't it? It's always my fault.

I guess it's okay. I've more or less resigned myself to it. This is just how I roll, apparently: all or nothing, no middle ground, no compromise. The alternative is making myself sick with unhappiness, and as much fun as that has been for the past few months, the past twenty-some years of my life...I think I'm going to have to go with the other choice this time.

I hope you'll miss me. But there really isn't anything I can do if you don't.

(I do hope, though, that you are happy.)