Dear Someone: Don't let anyone convince you that your appetite for love is too big.

The right person won't make you shrink it – they'll match it.

Dear, Dear Someone, _

In the quiet aftermath of my departure from a friendship that was built on shifting sands, from a relationship that meant nothing but hollow promises and vacant stares, and from a marriage where love dripped slowly like a rusty faucet, I find myself compelled to articulate the profound reasons behind my decision to leave what many would consider a "good enough" relationship.

This letter emerges from the depths of a soul that finally refused to settle for less than it deserved, from a heart that learned the hard way that partial love is more devastating than no love at all, and from a spirit that has weathered too many storms of half-hearted devotion.

What follows is both a declaration of self-worth and a manifesto for anyone who has ever questioned whether they're asking for too much by simply asking for what they deserve. It is a lighthouse beam cutting through the fog of doubt and hesitation.

When you asked why I was leaving a supposed best friend, a friendship that was as ephemeral as morning mist, and a marriage that many considered a facade of happiness, the words that tumbled from my lips were not just an explanation – they were years of realization crystallized into a moment of brutal honesty.

You see, in our dance of almost-but-not-quite, yes one I had dreamt of building a life with, a person I considered my potential soulmate, and someone who was