My Continued Correspondence to my Love. E1

Subject: My Continued Correspondence to my Love. E1
From: Dean Ardwen
Date: 7 Sep 2019

It's been two days since I had to remove you from my phone, and a bit over a week since my first letter. I'm going to try to keep to a schedule of one letter per week, but that may not be feasible. Time will tell. There is also the delay in publication to take into account.

Anyways, I am confused. Confused is not particularly the best word, but I can't seem to think of a better one. The way it happened was...murky. To explain:

I picked her up from the airport. We immediately started fighting. I don't even remember what it was about, but seemingly after one sentence, boom. Full-blown argument, about what I don't know. I checked my phone at a stoplight, and my messenger app of all things was pulled up.

"Oh and what did THAT b**** have to say?"

*********************************************

Let's rewind to before she left. I got back from my summer job, and one of her first questions was

"Did you cheat on me?"

To which I obviously replied no. She didn't stop there, though. She asked if I f***ed anyone, If I kissed anyone, if I talked to anyone, basically asking a dozen different ways if I had cheated on her.

That last question, though, I said yes. I told her about a friend I had back in ********, probably my best friend. I admitted yes, she was a female, and yes we hung out quite a bit, and talked about everything. She asked all those questions again, and I fended them off as before, and she grumpily accepted that I had a female friend that she had no way of finding anything out about.

Now, back to our argument.

********************************************

"Oh and what did THAT b**** have to say?"

"Who, Kai- .....ah, S***.

"WHO????"

So, here's the kicker. She was looking at the chat bubble from my messenger app, and saw a female's face. It wasn't yours, it was hers. She didn't recognize her own chat bubble.

So now, I'm fending off a million questions, accusations, demands to block you, demands to speak to you. It was all I could do. I deleted you off of snapchat, thank god I had given you the nickname "my best friend".

So far, the only information she has is the first syllable of your name, and she knows we met in ********. I was able to cover in that momentary slip-up and say a name that wasn't necessarily yours, but I still couldn't risk any more. When I called and told you why I couldn't remain in contact with you, you seemed upest.

I can understand why, and it kills me that things went that way. But it doesn't change anything about how I feel about you. I'm not choosing her over you. I'm not even choosing my future over you. I'm choosing your privacy, safety, and life over my own happiness. I hope you can see that.

I still want you. My plans are still in place. I need only bide my time now, as I hope you are. I know you still have a decision to make yourself, and I refuse to force that decision on you. That's why I cut it off. because I knew that if she got a hold of you, your choice would be taken way, and I couldn't stand for that.

Since then, things have not gotten better. She is slipping, in a bad way. I woke up at 8 this morning. After getting out of the shower, I heard my daughter crying, but this woman was still just laying there. She was obviously awake, but she seemed perfectly content to just let our daughter cry.

Whatever.

So I went and got her, changed her, made her breakfast. She came down eventually, but ghosted us both, and just went to sit on the back porch, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth like an addict experiencing withdrawals. We would have furniture to sit on had you not given it all away to spite me.

The house is less depressing than it was. But that isn't saying much. I found some trash bags, and got around to cleaning up the debris. I got some cheap cleaning supplies, and got to work. I miss how clean your house was. Mine seems to regenerate filth at an exponential rate, it's ludicrous.

She still hasn't folded her laundry. The laundry room has a mountain of her stuff piled in one corner. She can't be bothered to do LITERALLY anything. Not clean, not take care of our daughter, not anything a reasonable adult should be capable of.

I'm annotating all of it. This will be useful in a divorce court.

I miss you more than I can put into words, k. I hope you aren't mad at me, and if you're losing sleep, I hope it's because you miss me too. I'll try to stick to the schedule I mentioned.

Until next we speak.

-Dean

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