I can’t deal with this anymore.

You know I love you, right? I probably always will, but this isn’t working out for me anymore.

You’re cold, Don. I’ve told you this time and again but you never seem to do anything about it. My mother once told me that you can’t change a man, and I should have probably listened to her. God knows how I tried with you.

There’s nothing there when you kiss me. Sometimes I wonder if you even feel it. Your lips against mine are so impersonal, so remote, that it always makes my heart clench up in my chest and the tears spring to my eyes. At night, in bed, it almost seems like you’re not even there. I’ve heard of passive lovers before, but you make me do all the work and it just doesn’t seem worth it anymore. You don’t even seem to want me.

I’ll always remember you, Don. You were my first boyfriend. But whatever we had is gone, and I’m left wanting something more. Something that makes me feel alive again. With you, I don’t have that.

I need to stop loving the dead. I’m sorry.