Farewell, My Love, My Foe

Good evening, everyone.

Tonight, I stand before you with a heavy but resolute heart. I come not only with memories of love and longing but with the quiet strength born of having lived through passion’s extremes. I am here to say farewell—to a love that once roared like a siren calling me to its depths, to the toxic ties that once bound me, and ultimately, to the version of myself that clung to illusions. This speech is for anyone who has ever felt torn between heartache and hope, and for those who have ever had the courage to let go.

I remember the days when love felt like fate—a magnet pulling a lioness towards a reluctant poacher. I wrote him things like this: our love was strong, an irresistible call that echoed like a siren in the night, drawing us together with a force beyond reason. The universe, in all its cruelty, allowed a lioness like me to fall for someone who could never genuinely appreciate the wild majesty within. There was a time passion was enough to conquer every dark corner, that even the most tangled truths could be smoothed over by love’s high, sweet melody.

And yet, as the days wore on, that melody began to sour—a warning note amidst echoes of laughter. I miss you. In those quiet hours, I found myself overwhelmed by memories of when our hearts beat as one. I had every reason to let you go. I had job offers lined up, classes to attend, gym sessions scheduled, and a life full of hope and plans that needed my full attention. Amid it all, however, a part of me could not escape your presence. While you continued to run aimlessly through my mind, I was forced to confront that love, however toxic, was not something I simply switch off. And in saying “I miss you” tonight, I acknowledge both the beauty we once shared and the pain that came with it.

I want you to know something important: I do not actually hate you. I see you for who you truly are—a patchwork of vulnerabilities, mistakes, and the irresistible desire to be loved despite all odds. Yet, even as I speak with tenderness, I must also confess that the boundaries you shared with your daughter and even your ex-girlfriend—the careless disregard for emotional maturity—became unbearable. You told me that rules did not apply, and that commitment was a mere suggestion. In your world, boundaries had no meaning. And though I understand the allure of living without constraints, I could not agree with a path that left me feeling diminished and alone. I cannot be mad at you for not being emotionally available, for not growing into the man I once dreamed you had become. Instead, I choose to grieve for the version of us that never truly existed.

For a long time, I accepted every flawed piece of you—one hundred percent of who you were, imperfect as that was. We were meant to be, binding my heart to yours even as I watched you unravel in ways I could not mend. I believed that love could heal every wound, but over time, the weight of our shared history became too much to bear. I allowed myself to be tethered to you, even as I recognized that every secret you harboured, every infidelity and careless word, chipped away at the foundation of our dreams. It was a cruel irony: loving you so deeply while knowing that your choices had made you unworthy of the love you once inspired.

There have been one hundred and three long days since I last saw or heard your voice—a silence that was deafening in its intensity. In that quiet span, I struggled with the void that your absence created. Friends told me it was just sex, just drugs, just the wild, dysfunctional dance of two souls on the edge. And maybe, in a perverse way, it was. But the truth was far more complex: I loved you—the monster you sometimes became, with your compulsive lies and manipulative ways, could not completely define the essence of who you were. It was me that loved every broken fragment that made up the man I once thought could be my entire world.

Stuck with the memories as I remember the day you reached out with a message—short and piercing—asking, “Are you still alive?” But I could not bring myself to answer. There came a time when I needed to honour the space I had created for healing. Yet, fate is an unpredictable storyteller. The very next day, I scrolled through a dating app and saw your face staring back at me. It was as if time had decided to play one final cruel trick on me—a reminder that no matter how far I had walked away, it seems like hundreds of memories cling stubbornly like shadows at dusk. In that moment, my heart shattered anew, as if the recognition of your presence on that screen were an admission that I had not moved on at all.

In response, amidst the bittersweet ache of missing you, I reached for the phone. The conversation that followed was all too familiar—a rush of words, a cascade of reminders that with little efforts from you, we were forever doomed regardless of our own imperfections. Almost at once, you dismissed my feelings, accusing me of being in the wrong frame of mind even before I could voice my hurt. You said we were not good for each other, that speaking my truth was just another source of trouble for you. And when you mentioned that you had almost died—an admission as empty as it was dramatic—I found my heart recoiling. I knew then: talking to you was like trying to hold onto water. No matter how tightly I clutched, it always slipped away, leaving nothing but the residue of false promises and unmet needs.

After hanging up, I sent you a message—a final message that tried to capture everything in one painful burst of honesty:

“You made first contact and then, without giving me a chance, you accused me of being angry. But I was truly fine, thriving even without you. Until I saw you on Tinder, I felt a pang—perhaps because you were the ghost I could not forget. Months had passed, now years, but you cling to me still, so I stupidly continued to stay, I gave you my heart as if it were still in play. Maybe it is for the best that I remain dead to you, because you, Tim, are now dead to me. I hope you receive what you deserve—be it good or bad. Goodbye.”

I watched as your call came through—an echo of the same old cycle of manipulation, a ringing reminder that despite every attempt at closure, some parts of our history remain unresolved. That call, unanswered and allowed to fall into silence, was a powerful moment of liberation. In that silence, I realized speaking to you was as futile as nailing jelly to a wall—another exercise in futility that left me drained, yet strangely free.

I stand before you tonight to say that I have learned something profound. Sometimes, love is less about holding on and more about knowing when to let go. The passionate pull of our connection, as intense as a siren’s call, is now a memory—a haunting yet beautiful reminder of what once was. I have come to accept that my love for you—however genuine and raw it may have been—belongs to a chapter that must now close. I choose to celebrate the moments of tenderness even as I mourn the cost of our togetherness.

And so, with every ounce of strength I have gathered, I say farewell. Farewell to the endless cycle of hope and disappointment, to the days when my heart lay awake at night, haunted by the ghost of what could have been. I say farewell to the illusions—those fleeting glimpses of perfection that obscured the truth. I am a lioness no longer prey to a poacher’s ways. I have become whole again, even without you.

Before I leave, I want you to understand one final truth: I do love you, always. Not in the way that binds me or enslaves me to memory, but in the way that accepts every imperfect part of who you are. I love you for your truths and your failings, for the moments when you shined despite your flaws. And I hope, with every beat of my heart, that one day you will find the strength to set yourself free—to be who you truly are and to cast aside the masks that have held you captive.

Yet, tonight, I must choose my own freedom. I have opportunities waiting—a future filled with promise, with new experiences, and new moments to explore in every corner of life, I now claim as my own. I have decided that my path, however uncertain it may seem at times, is one that leads away from the toxic cycles of the past. And so, I resolve that this goodbye is not only to you, but also to the painful patterns that have defined us for far too long.

As I look out into this room, I see faces that are all too familiar with heartache. Perhaps some of you have loved a person who never rose to the person you deserved—or even family, friends, or layers of expectations that kept you confined. Today, I invite you to share in this moment of transformation. Let this farewell be an act of reclaiming our power. Let it be an anthem for every soul that has been bruised by love’s harsh realities. We may miss what we thought we wanted, but sometimes missing is the first step toward finding what we truly need.

I know that in the quiet aftermath, when the echoes of our past still resonate, it is hard to believe that life can feel free again. But I am here to tell you: life is waiting outside those walls of regret and bitterness. It is waiting with open arms, inviting us to embrace the future with all its imperfections and miracles. I have chosen to trust the process—to trust that every heartbreak is a lesson, and every goodbye is the start of something new.

So tonight, in this space full of raw scars and unseen victories, I say to you, Tim, and to the shadows of what we once were: thank you. Thank you for teaching me that my worth is not measured by someone else’s inability to see it. Thank you for the nights of pain that ultimately led me to the dawn of self-love. And thank you for being the catalyst that forced me to finally understand that I deserve more—a love that is both honest and healing.

As I deliver these final words, I feel the weight of our shared history lift ever so slightly. I raise my voice not in anger or bitterness, but in gentle resolve. I have loved, I have lost, and I have learned. And now, I reclaim my own story. My heart, though scarred, beats with a new rhythm—a rhythm of freedom, of strength, and of unwavering self-respect.

To everyone listening tonight who has ever been caught in the tangled web of love and loss, I say: let go. Do not allow the ghosts of the past to keep you from walking into the light of a tomorrow ripe with possibility. Embrace the heartbreak as part of a journey that taught you to stand taller, to love deeper, and to choose yourself more than anything else.

In the last moments of this farewell, let me leave you with these words: For now, it is goodbye. My love for you may forever linger in the quiet corners of memory, a bittersweet echo of what was, but I must move forward. I choose to step away from the haunting pull of our past, and in doing so, welcome the promise of a future that I now dare to imagine. I hope you find the freedom and truth in your own life, just as I have found mine.

Thank you, and goodnight.

I leave you with this sentiment—simple yet profound: I love you always, mi amor, but today marks the day I let you go. May you, someday, be as free as I have finally become.