It seems that I can’t let you go, so I’m here again writing a letter that you’ll never read. You’re still on my mind a lot. I know that’s fucked up. I know. I don’t like it, but I’m not sure I want to do anything to stop it either. I think about what would happen if we saw each other again. Would it be like in that dream I had years ago, we see each other and everything clicks? I think that the most realistic scenario is you totally brushing me off. Completely ignoring me and walking away. But I don’t like to think about realistic scenarios when I think about you. I like to think about the good moments and expound on them until they lift me up again. Do you remember the Thanksgiving before I came to see you? We talked on the phone, you said that you would build me a house when I won the lottery. I enjoyed talking to you, you were fun.
I prefer to think about the good times but occasionally those darker moments sneak in and pepper my thoughts. Honestly, I’m greatful for that. If it weren’t for those dark moments I would have decided that you were practically perfect. I can’t afford to think that anyone is practically perfect.
I still think about leaving my husband. I don’t think he’s right for me and I don’t think he’s good for me. I feel like I’ve spent the majority of my marriage fighting his view of who I am and trying to retain any semblance of who I know that I am. I used to have self worth but every day with him is a fight to keep even shreds of that. I used to be happy and confident but he spent the first 6 years of our marriage constantly tearing me down. I’m tired.
I wonder if you really would have treated me better. You said you would, but really what would’ve happened? I want to be with someone who feels lucky to have me. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me because of who I am. I want to be with someone who sees my value. Would you have been that person? I don’t know. In my mind you are that person but I already said that I don’t like to think about realistic scenarios.
I know. None of this matters anyway. I’m still married and you’ve moved on. I’ve said this before, I hope you’re happy. I really do.