Dear Brian,
I can't talk to you about this. Not really. Because this isn't something you can fix. I can't fix it either. Though I will admit, every bone in my body, every molecule in my being wishes I could. Maybe that's what makes this so hard for me. It's something I can't change. And I have lived my whole life working hard, making things happen for myself. Spending 5 hours a day in a practice room. Making phone calls. Talking to people. Staying up until two in the morning writing a paper. But the answer to your prompt cannot be answered in a five-paragraph container. No matter how hard I work, no matter how many hours I spend thinking about it, no matter how many dreams I wake up from in the middle of the night, no matter how many tears I cry, no matter how many smiles I fake...it will never be enough. There is nothing I can do to change you, your mind, or your heart. It's not that I don't try. I have tried. I admit, I have made mistakes in the past. But I have tried for a solid year and half to be everything you could ever possibly want in anyone. It's not that I'm not smart, mature, funny, personable, outgoing, happy-go-lucky, warm. It's not even that I'm not beautiful. I'm an attractive, upstanding, mature, and respectable young woman. And it's not that you don't try. You do the best you can. I believe that. You're talented, smart, undeniably handsome. You're passionate and you have serious ambition. I respect it all and admire it. I truly do. I truly believe you care about me in a way that is much more deep and real than any other relationship you have ever had with anyone else, really. I want it to be enough. More than anything. I want everything to be okay. I want to be happy with what we are. I want to be happy with who you are to me, how you treat me. But I can't, Brian. I can't. Do you know how exhausting it is to put someone as priority when you are only an option to them? When you're just another one on a long list of girls? When day after day, you are picked last, just because you're expected to be there. You aren't a gift, you're a tool kept in a belt, to be used only when necessary, used being the keyword, because who really cares about a wrench besides when you have to fix a loose screw? And do you know what it's like to be so strong all the time, which is good, but then the person you care about forgets that you have feelings too and doesn't even care when you are having a bad day. And do you know how it feels to care about someone so much that when they cry, your heart sinks into quick sand and breaks all at the same time, and the only thing you want to do is hold them, because it somehow seems logical that you have that if the part of you that's falling apart can save them, can keep them together. And do you know what it's like to watch day after day as the person you care about makes the same mistakes over and over and over and over and over again just like a broken record and you want to take it off the record player, but it's like the record insists that it wants to stay on the record, skipping over the same line, in the same song, with the same lonely lyrics, if only it could just go to the next track which is a song about people you can be yourself around, the message would get through. And do you know what it's like to try as hard you can to hold yourself together when all you want to do is fall apart, and it actually fools the person who should see right through you? No. You don't. You never will.
You have different priorities, which include anyone who likes you who doesn't really know the real you. With whom, when they get to know you, you can be whoever you'd like. Even if it's not the real you. Oh, they may not be very reliable. They're not going to be there when you break down. They're going to disappear mysteriously when things aren't going too hot. But it doesn't matter. Because things are going well, and you're great now, and when will it ever not go well? Why spend time and effort on someone who will already be there? You can deal with them later. They'll always be there.
Tell me, though, Brian. When is later? When are you ever going to understand? What will it take? Let's see. I've been in the hospital once. You made no effort to visit me. Nothing. I've had so many talks with you, it has made me sick. I have put myself out there so much, I believe I have some sort of mental health illness from exposure. You have such a habit of learning things only when you experience them yourself. Will it take physically losing me? That certainly would be tragic. What's going to happen when I move away? You're a liar. You're a coward. I will never be enough for you, because I'm not everyone. I will never be pretty enough, I will never be smart enough, I will never be talented enough. Because it is just me. Sure. You can date all of SAI by dating a sister. You can feel whatever kind of connection you want. But if she can just walk right out of your life without a care on your part, your relationship is a joke. If that's what you want, fine. Take these superficial relationships. Take every girl who will fall for it. If it makes you happy. But it doesn't make you happy. It will never make you happy. But you won't listen to me. Because I obviously don't know what I'm talking about. I'm all for you being happy. In fact, it's a big part of making me completely happy. But if you are to afraid of seizing what makes you happy, of ditching your current lifestyle for one of true happiness, there is absolutely nothing I, nor anyone else, can do for you. I can't do this anymore, Brian. I need someone who cares about me. Who might be annoyed with my meows, but laughs because it's me being me. Or who, instead of simply telling me that my general paranoia is unfounded, comforts me and explains to me why they're unfounded. That is what friends do. Especially best friends. But we are not best friends. We are not brother and sister. I need to be away from you. I need to separate myself from you in that sense. I'm tired of being a burden to you. Who really wants to be around a girl that you've hurt, anyway? It just gives an unpleasant feeling of guilt, and who really wants to deal with that, especially when you're trying to become a big important conductor of some big name orchestra somewhere in some big name city? How inconvenient. Well. I'm done being an inconvenience. I'm going to let you get on with your life. I'll work with you. I'll start a quintet with you. But that's where the relationship ends.
I'll take you out for ice cream for your birthday, because you did it for me. That was nice. I. Can't. Do. This. Anymore. I would say this to you. But I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of a dead horse beating and it makes me want to smash things. And I know how it feels to feel powerless and unable to fix anything. I sincerely wish the best for you. -- | 
