I don't know how to do it.

I just don't.
I did something pathetically stupid and looked back on everything that happened between us.  I felt nauseous and heartsick, and absolutely worthless afterward.  Not because anything you did was awful.  God no, you brought back something that had been dead inside of me for years.  I thanked you for that, melted when you said that I made last summer the best summer of your life, that I was special to you.
That I live under a pretty awesome rock.
And you know what, I still live there.  I started to emerge with your help, but when we stopped talking, it all died.  I just crawled back under and curled inside myself wondering how the hell I was going to get away again.  You've haunted my dreams, your voice, people who are clearly not you who really are you, your face, your body, it's all still there.  It moved from tender words like "You know I'm going to marry you someday" to a simple laugh, to being caught up in a rushing and endless river, seeing your back always a few feet ahead of me and I couldn't catch up.
I don't dream about you anymore.  I've done well in that respect.  I don't remember my dreams very often, and usually when I do, they're pointless and obscure as most dreams are, but more unsatisfying.  I have a few young men who are interested in me, but I'm scared that the memory of you will prevent it from success...like it did the first time, and he definitely didn't deserve that.
But it was real shallow of you to drop off the face of the earth.  I hope you regret that,  I hope you still think about me and wish you could go back and change things.  I hope that girls come up to you and you flirt with them and compare them to me, and they don't measure up.  I hope that when you think about me, you feel like you missed out on the best thing that could have ever happened to you, and it's too late to fix that.  I hope you hate yourself because you lost me.
Most of all, I hope you're happy with your life, where you are, who you're with.  Because I'm happy with my life for the most part.  I could have one of those young men if I had the time (as I'm very busy with a multitude of other things), but I'm not ready for any of them.
I guess I hope that you still want me, in the sick and twisted way that I somehow still want you.  Even though, I don't really want you.  I just want someone like you.   You changed my life.  I hope you know that.  You made that the best summer of my life.
Maybe five years from now, we'll bump into each other again.  Maybe then the time will be right for us to try again.  Until then, I need to forget you, stop making you the antagonist, and let go of you, because I know you've already let go of me.