I can't love you the way I did before. Because I figured that the only way to not hate you any more is to give my blessing. You deserve one type of happiness I can't offer.
Is the absurdity of being generous meaning giving away what oneself need the most? But when facing the bare fact that I am still fond of your accompany at any rate, I fear to lost that connection in any sense. I'm trying to be very sympathetic about how you marred me with that tactfulness for these four, five years. you must not ask for more, please.
I can't see you any more unless I'm done with coping issues. which is quiting you(?)