I love you. And I know I always will. But I think my hesitancy about dating you is an important sign. It usually is. When I have reservations, when I get that gut feel that this is probably not a good idea, it typically means something. Every time I’ve ignored it, I’ve been sorry later.
There are so many things I admire about you. You’re one of my favorite people I’ve ever met. And we’ll likely always be friends.
But you’re addicted to that terrible relationship with her. The one that’s half-destroying you both. And while I’ll be there for you all day as a friend, I don’t think I should get any closer.
I’m already too involved, you see. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to support you through it, since it seemed like you needed someone to.
But I’m starting to see that you too have all the qualities that you complain about in her. And I wonder when you’re ever going to see it. I tried to tell you, gently, kindly, but you weren’t having it. You didn’t want to listen.
You say you want to get away from her, and yet you run back to her any time she even seems to want anything. Even though she wouldn’t lift a finger for you if you were on fire.
I don’t know if you’re ever going to free yourself from this. I think part of you wants to. But I don’t think it’s the part that’s driving.
I love you. I’m pretty sure I always will. And I’m going to be here to support you. But I need to keep a bit of distance so I don’t get wrapped up in this same cycle myself with you.
Because I see how it could happen so easily — how I could end up in the same dance with you that she is. Because she’s not the only one dancing.