Good evening, my dear. You always asked to see some of my writing, so here, I'm indulging you now. She is off with him, being completely platonic, I'm sure. I have a rare evening to myself. And since the bite of your email this morning still feels like a dagger in my heart, I have some emotion to get rid of.
Today was rough, for both of us.
I do hope you know how angry and regretful I am about this last turn of events. I had no idea, none of us did. My wish is that you turn out to be clean. If you aren't, I don't know what to suggest. I know what I would do in your shoes, but you aren't me, no matter our similarities. And you may not have the stomach for it.
I do know the situation it puts you in. And that, above all else, is what I'm most regretful for. Were it just you and I in this equation, whatever. The pill is cheap, it's one dose, and then you're through with it. But there are other implications for you. If you do intend to stay with him and follow through with your plans, this is a big proverbial wrench. One that I would not have willingly thrown, had I known.
I don't know what you're going to do. I do know that you will figure it out, though. You are nothing if not a woman of agency. And that is bittersweet, in its own way. Because as you know, I would do quite a lot to be able to call you mine. Not this, though.
I don't want to believe that your mind is made up. I don't think it's a matter of obsession, either. Rather, it's a side affect of loving someone who, for reasons beyond your control, you can't have.
What you said today was a cruel lash upon my bare chest, and it took me a while to understand it. How could this person who, by her own words, loved me, turn around and be so venomous and claim to regret everything?
I figured it out though. I believe what you said, about crying over me, about feeling helpless and angry because I couldn't let go, and in turn, not let you let go. It all makes sense now. Because you know what you want, but you are choosing to not follow it. You want to break things off because every message you send is like a nail getting ripped out. Because you do feel that way about me, and you want so badly to live that dream and fulfill your desires, but you can't.
In your mind, your place is set. You are stuck, and can't pursue me. You can't leave him. You have to bear his children. You have to stay on the course you've set. You've felt this way for some time, and so you have tried on multiple occasions to break it off. Every time we talk again, it tortures you, because you can't let me go if I'm still hanging on. If you let me go, it makes it easier for you to be happy with what you have.
I get that now.
But I got it too late. I didn't understand how you could be so happy with me, love every second of our conversations, and still turn around and try to break it off. I kept pursuing, and each time it damaged you more and more to tell me goodbye.
Then, it turned into resentment, because all the pain you'd been suffering through the cycle of love and loss, you began to attribute to me. You more or less told me this, but I was too starry-eyed to notice. I wanted you, (still do), and I couldn't see the milk turning sour before my eyes.
I have no doubt that once, I made you happier than he ever could. I know now though that it's unlikely to ever happen again. Not only because you made up your mind a long time ago, but because now, I am nothing more than a source of pain for you.
That thought alone, is responsible for more grief than I have felt, cumulatively, in years. The fact that now, not only are you going to choose him, you now don't cherish our memory. Now you want nothing to do with me. Now I'm the enemy. The weight that drags you down, the source of your pain.
I can't take that, k. I'll do literally anything to fight out of this whole which I have dug. I want a fighting chance to be in your life. I want you to actually give me the due consideration, I want you to stop running from your feelings.
I just re-read your first email from this morning, as I typed this, and there are fresh tears on my desk. I never lied to you, k. I never intentionally put you at risk. I haven't obsessed over you. I just want you to give me that chance, k. Give me the chance to prove to you what you knew a month ago.
I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. Please don't cry anymore, please don't regret us. I'm just falling apart, k. I'm falling apart just as you are, and now I'm really losing you. I lost you when I left, but that was different. Now I'm really losing you, because you no longer regard me with good favor. Please, let me change that. Let me at least exit your life on good terms. I don't want to be anybody's regret, least of all yours.