I advocated myself to you more than once and we ended up deciding it is not gonna work so we broke up. It is true that we had so many good memories, but at last, your statements and your letter made me confused. My gut is picking up on the gap between the romantic narrative in the letter and the reality of why I had to leave. The letter is beautifully written and it also bypasses accountability. Alongside the grief, I feel a sense of pressure, as if it is implicitly framing me as the once who choose to break something so great so destined. But we both should know why had to leave. I had this conflicting feelings in my head: one is your letter, remembering all the great memories. But the other is the real life where repeated controlling issues and boundaries constantly being crossed. Maybe my frustration over how you bypassed and ignored the foundation of our breaking down is another perfect proof why we are lost in translation.