I am sure that when you told me I could be whoever I wanted to be, in your many attempts at saving me from myself, you expected I would always want to be yours.
I am sure of it. Because I felt it too.
So, how is it that I am not interested in you anymore? Even though I still care for you, I have the strangest urge to push you away, now that I have left home for this new place I find myself in. I want to see other people, make brighter memories, and feel things you said I would one day feel if I could just crawl my way out of the hole I hardly noticed when you were around.
Why does wanting something outside of you feel this wrong? What has become of me?
How do I tell you these things without you resenting me, without you feeling like you were never good enough? How do I tell you that I am a better person now, and that staying with you reminds me of who I used to be and how little I once felt about myself?
Despite all the breaking this may do to you, I feel you should know the truth about the last few months. I met a boy who looks at me the way you do, with immortal eyes, except he never worries about me and all the harm I could cause myself. He tells me it is okay to cry, and that he often does the same. Nothing has happened with us. I needed to write to you first, after all the silence I inflicted upon you.
I hope that when you read this, you will understand, and take heart in knowing that you have done nothing to wrong me. You were perfect then, and to me, you will always be without flaw. But flawlessness is too much for me right now.
I do not want to feel so small anymore.
Please forgive me for leaving you worse than I found you, and for not offering you anything decent in the time that we shared in each other’s company.
I hope the next time I see you, whenever I find my way back to Abuja, we can share a weightless smile.
Take care of yourself,
Amarachi Onu.

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