Soleil, chère amie,
I really don't know what else to call you at this point, and French seems more nuanced somehow, so I can get away from the dry implications of the English "dear" and move into a different, more fluid area (is that all right with you?).
It's not my place to complain, I know. You made this clear yourself, and just as I accepted it then, I accept it now. But please forgive me if I sound a little bit whiny, just a little bit, because I need to put this somewhere, and I would never bother you or anyone else by saying it aloud. So if I do this, it's the only bit of selfishness that I will allow myself.
I know it wasn't your intention to break my heart (that sounds so cliche, doesn't it?) and I would never accuse you of it. But– forgive me– if you had no intention of staying, why did you let me hope? You told me you would be here no matter what, if things got hard, if everything was bad, you promised you'd still stay by my side and be here for me. Just as I would be for you. And of course I understand. I do. Who would want to stay with me, having seen the horrible person that I am? I don't blame you, and I'm not bitter, I'm just complaining, because I guess that's what I do. I complain.
But now you're angry that I won't trust you with my problems? I don't want to sound accusatory, but what did you expect? You told me very clearly that you needed to focus on yourself now. And I completely respect that. Sometimes, when things get bad, all you can do is think about yourself. But please don't be angry with me for trying to respect your wishes! You clearly don't have the energy to think about me, and that's fine, but it was your own choice to make it this way, so forgive me, but I'm not going to keep burdening you with information that you clearly don't want to hear!
Am I dejected? Am I sad? Of course. You left me. But that's my problem, not yours. Please, you need to focus on yourself. I'll be all right. Or maybe not. Who knows? What matters is that you chose to make our relationship one-sided, and I accepted your terms. You can come to me whenever, and I'll be here. But you pretty clearly told me that you don't have the capacity or energy ("spoons" as they say in the discourse) to worry about me. Again, I said this was all right. So don't accuse me of not being emotionally open. I am. I just can't burden you when you asked me not to.
I'm respecting your wishes. Please don't hate me for it.
