I’ve met two girls at uni who reminded me of you. Separate parts of you, the parts I fell in love with.
Obviously I can’t be with both, but I can’t be this damn lonely all the time.
And who would I be to stop myself? I mean, who am I kidding with my last letter?
You’ve moved so far beyond me. You’ve never seemed happier than you are with your current boyfriend.
So maybe it’s my time to move on, too.
But here’s my dilemma:
I can’t tell what I loved more about you; your rugged individualism or your undying loyalty and unpredictability.
I think I know, but I’m not sure.
Will I ever be happy with someone who represents the part and not the whole?
But the one thing they have that I could never live without:
Their lips look as if they were carefully placed there by God himself
with the sole intention of smiling. They brighten up my life every time they smile.
Just like you.
Maybe this is my chance to learn to be friends again.
How to be content with them being in my life, not taking unnecessary risks
like I did with you.
Don’t we live in a glorious time? Where I can write this and maybe you’ll see it.
But only if you cared enough to google the poem I wrote you.
I miss you, but if you do care to salvage anything we had
your time is running out. Because I’m moving on too, now.
When these are posted, I’ll begin the tedious debate with myself:
Do I send these letters to you? The website name implies no.
It all depends on how badly I miss you next week.
No matter what you think about these letters, you have to know that
you are always going to be a part of my plays. There will always be a
character with your name. With your spirit. You taught me how to
create a woman character. Someone who never fails to be herself.
You never lost sight of who you are and I can’t take that away from you.
Stay who you are. Stay incredible.
The Stray Dog in Your Straw House