I was 8 years old the first time I met you even though you had been around my whole life. I didn't really see the importance of having you in my life at the time but my mom assured me I would come to understand.
I was 12 when we met again. You showed up one day unannounced, but not unexpected. I had been waiting for you. I had eagerly anticipated your arrival without really understanding why. I just knew that with you around people looked at me different. I was always ambivalent about you at best. I wasn't really sure we were going to get along. Once I realized how much pain and misery you brought to my life, I knew that this was a bad idea.
As I grew older, you got meaner. All around me, people were ecstatic that you were in their lives. You brought them joy and love. You just continued to punish me.
Was it because you knew you didn't have a purpose in my life? Was it because you knew I didn't really want you around? Whatever it was, you just continued to inflict pain. Finally, I could ignore you no longer. It was when you were screaming at me, "I'm still here! What are you gonna do about it?" that I knew I finally had to end my relationship with you. I could see that I would never have a life as long as you were around. You would just continue to take up more of my time and energy until I no longer had any to give. You would suck me dry if I didn't stop you.
You've been gone just over a month now. It was painful to be separated from you at first but gradually, the pain has been replaced with peace and the gaping wound you left behind has become a scar. I really expected to feel nothing but elation with your departure but honestly, a part of me regrets that our relationship is over. If only things had been different from the start, we may have had a chance. If only you had been kinder to me and I a little more patient. If only, if only, is there a more useless beginning to a sentence? It's over and now it's time to move on. You are gone and I'm better off without you. So long, farewell, adios.