A Hopeless Love Letter
What shock to hear from you. Your letter caught me totally unprepared, I hadn't thought of you in so long...
No. No. I don't think I can give you what you need, but at least I'll give you the truth. I've thought of you incessantly over the years, wondering if you were happy, wondering if you ever thought of me at all. Wondering what could have been but wasn't, because really, it couldn't be, not then.
You ask me to forgive you for many things. In all these years, I never felt there was anything I needed to forgive. You didn't love me and that nearly killed me, but it never made me angry. I couldn't help loving you, you couldn't help not feeling the same way. Nothing to forgive.
Your letter, however, with your feelings all over it, is something I'm struggling to forgive. You were right in saying it was selfish to burden me with all your pent-up anguish. I resent that you took the liberty and didn't think of the effect your words would have on me. You were very brave to bare your soul, but your courage took too long in coming.
Maybe I should be elegant, leave it at that, ask you to move on, simply say goodbye now, but I can't help crossing the door you've opened. This is the cue I waited so many years to get from you, that I never really expected to get. Too little, too late, but it's all I have.
It turns out all the hurt may have been in vain, pointless like the wind on top of a mountain, because you actually loved me, too; it took my leaving to open your eyes to what was always in front of you, in you, but you've waited all these years to tell me. I don't know if I can forgive you for that.
You hoped I would feel something upon reading your letter. I hope I could stop feeling. I feel shaken to hear from you after all these years. I feel my blood boil all over again. I feel miserable that it took me so long to get over you, never being fully there for anybody else, only to be back at the place it all started, to have you barreling back into my heart with such force that I feel I haven't learned anything, have achieved nothing, in all the years I've been without you.
I feel that I was only fooling myself all the times I thought I'd managed to lock the memory of you somewhere deep in my heart that couldn't hurt me anymore, that I'd thrown away the key to those burning feelings, only to realize your letter could open that lock in seconds, masterfully. I feel myself at once exhilarated to have that beast freed and terrified to have to lock it again.
I feel totally hopeless, emotionally drained by my lack of control over my feelings for you. I already said goodbye once, I can't see how I'll have the audacity to say it again, but I know I can't just turn the clock as if nothing happened, as if I hadn't suffered, as if I hadn't been a ghost of a lover my entire life, as if I am the same person you once knew.
I feel that you don't know me. You have no idea what my life has been like, without you in it. And yet I feel you know me still, because you life has been half of one, as it has for me. But two wrongs don't make a right... I regret that you never said anything while we were both in a place where we could talk about it. You may be in that place now, but I'm past it.
What I feel the most and I can barely endure the feeling is that all the things I feel aren't your fault, like my loving you wasn't your fault, but it is your fault to have kept it all from me during all these years, weakly and cowardly, while you where also suffering and I was living half a life. I don't know that I can forgive you for that.
I don't want the half of me that was left standing to be devoured by this beast that lives inside me. I don't want to die from you all over again.
Be well. Goodbye.
The first letter: Not a Love Letter
The response: A Love Letter