My name is Erin. Sixteen years ago, you knew me as Erin Kellar. I'm writing this because... I don't know why I'm writing it. It will likely never reach you, because I don't know how to reach you.
If you are reading this, it is because fate intervened, or because I finally managed to remember something, something I needed to find you that I don't have right now, something deep in my memory that I cannot reach, and the frustration is killing me. I don't know what I expect you to do with what I am about to tell you--that will be up to you: all, nothing or something in between.
I could reach you once. I could reach you so easily, that I had you in my arms many times. You had me in your bed. I had you inside my body.
You should have been everything to me. I remember the moment I looked at you and knew I was about to fall so in love... so in love that I ran. I ran from you, and I have never regretted anything more.
Four months before we met, my heart was crushed by a man I spent too much time getting over. I had given him everything, and he tore me apart. He broke me so thoroughly, that when I felt it coming again, I ran. I was terrified of falling for someone as hard as I knew I would fall for you.
I saw you again after we let it go. By then, I had, again, given myself entirely to the wrong man. This one was a fairy tale, a teenage crush that suddenly became a lot more, but before long, I was torn apart again.
I should have given myself to you. And for way too short a time, I did. But I think I knew then that you could hurt me so much more, because I knew how much I would love you. I don't think you would have hurt me, and now that's what hurts the most.
I moved on, as I have no doubt you did too. But I'm thinking about you a lot all these years later, and I can't stop wondering what might have been. I used to think of someone, the fairy tale, as the one that got away, but I was so, so wrong.
You are the one that got away. And I wish I had held on to you when I had you. Things are complicated right now, but all I can think about is you. I was safe with you. I know that, because I remember getting on this silly amusement park ride with you, and freaking the hell out. Afterward, you held on to me, and my daughter, until you were convinced we were okay.
Why didn't I know I was safe with you? I wish I had never gotten out of your car that night, and let you get away.
