Weeks with Pandora felt like an emotional rollercoaster, with problems surfacing out of nowhere, shaking the foundation of what we once had. Every time I asked her about something, she'd say, "Sorry, it's a secret. I promised someone." At first, I tried to accept it. After all, we were supposed to be best friends, right? We used to share everything. But lately, I felt like I didn't even know her anymore. So, I started keeping secrets too, just to make her jealous. It felt wrong, uncomfortable, but I couldn't help myself.
No matter what I did, Pandora still had this hold over me. Her interests became mine, her obsessions became mine. I couldn't escape it. I couldn't fall for this behavior anymore, though—I had to stop it. I couldn't let myself drown in this toxic cycle. But the truth was, deep down, sadness had become my strange comfort. I was beginning to believe that sorrow and I were inseparable. And no matter how hard I tried to leave it behind, it followed me everywhere.
Maybe what I was about to do was bad for my heart, but I had to do it. For my mental health. For my own peace. No more sacrificing myself to keep someone who had already broken me. So, I wrote a letter. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done, but it was the best decision I could make for myself. Life has a way of pushing you to make sacrifices, hoping that someday, a tiny bit of happiness will be worth it.
Here's what I wrote to Pandora:
Dear Pandora,
I know you might think this is a cliche, but I need to say it—so I'll say it in a letter. Just read it, because you won't hear from me again.
You probably know what I'm talking about—our relationship. It's been unstable, and I think you know why. Things changed the moment I found out the truth about what you did. Everything's been different since then. Apologies and acting like nothing happened won't fix this. We tried to rebuild, but something broke inside me. You've lied, and I've sought revenge. Neither of us handled it right. But the truth is, I was hurt—deeply hurt. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still hurting. Being near you used to make me feel like I was enough. But the truth is, I created this whole new version of myself, one that fit your standards, your world.
The feelings we had were mutual, maybe even more than just friendship, but something doesn't feel right anymore. I can't keep pretending that everything is okay. I can't ignore what's been eating away at me. You may stop caring, but I can't shut off how I feel for you. So, I'm relieving you of me. I need to take back my own life, my own interests. The things that made me happy before. I won't live in your world anymore. We need to break up—permanently.
I hope you understand.
Sincerely,
Alex
Giving her the letter was agonizing. It felt like I was giving away a part of myself. But I knew it was the right thing to do for me. The pain I was enduring wasn't worth holding on to someone who had already hurt me so much.
Three weeks passed before the final test—summer break was just around the corner. Life after the breakup was… strange. Pandora and I lived in two separate worlds, different social circles. I thought I'd regret what I'd done, but a part of me felt relief. My heart was in grief, yet my mind was proud of the decision I'd made. I couldn't understand what I was supposed to feel. What's the point of feeling anything, anyway? Did I ever really matter to anyone?
My parents, sure, they would always love me. But that wasn't the point. At some point in life, you realize you need someone who loves you, who's there for you. Someone you can have long conversations with, not about secrets or lies, but about real things. Real feelings. And maybe that kind of love exists somewhere out there, even if I didn't find it with Pandora.
After the final test, I gave Pandora back the necklace she'd left with me. I thought I could get rid of everything that reminded me of her. But when I saw her eyes, when I handed it to her, it was harder than I imagined. She asked me about the bio test, I answered quickly, not wanting to prolong the conversation. I walked away, unable to look back. My heart ached, and all I could do was cry.
But I had to be strong. I needed to heal during summer, focus on school, and pursue my dream of becoming a surgeon. I couldn't keep looking back, even if part of me still missed her.
Pandora contacted me once after that. My hands trembled when I saw her name. But it was short—just a day. After that, we didn't speak again. It's been months now. I haven't thought about her much. Maybe I've healed. I spent the summer reading, going out alone, processing the pain. And maybe that's what I needed.
I still don't know if love exists the way I want it to. But for now, I'm learning to embrace who I am, flaws and all. And for once, I'm learning to put myself first.