The letter you will never read

Revisited post from November 2015

You asked what I see when I look at you. Well, I am not sure if you can handle it, but this is my truth.
I see a man who doesn’t love himself and who doesn’t acknowledge his achievements. At the same time, you like to brag about them, and you are proud of the things you create with your mind and your fingers. You love what you do. It’s your passion, and you need it like the breathing air. Yet you hate it because you are a hostage of it too. You are so soft-spoken and yet so vulgar too. You are yin, and you are yang. I love that mix. And I love our calls — hours of your voice in my head. And although you like to steer them to the lighter side, you can’t always hide the torment of your soul.
How can I make you understand how much you helped me get in touch with myself with your sheer presence in my life? How? And I still don’t understand what it is you see in me. You told me that I am different and that I understand. You said that I am beautiful, not only my body but my mind too. You said I could be perfect for the right man. But, why did you choose me? Out of all the women who want a piece of you, you picked me; and I didn’t even flirt with you, I was just grateful for your visibility. I can’t see anything of value in myself. Ha, maybe that’s a lie. I have many qualities too; I just don’t recognise them every day. Still… What do you see in me? What do I have to offer that you so desperately seek?
I will never understand any of this.

We are sharing fears and fantasies, and so many of them are similar. And I wonder why? I read your words before I ever met you. Did you make me into this woman with your art? You say you write from the heart and everything you write and say is true. It’s the same for me; bleeding emotions. But I don’t want to save you. I can’t; I am not strong enough. I can’t be the one to protect you from yourself. I can offer you other things, though. I will never give you my heart, it belongs to someone else, but I can give you a part of my soul. Isn’t that even more intimate? It’s the part that your words shaped. The part I am offering freely every time we talk. Just don’t forget that I am not a toy and not a whore; you can’t buy me with cheap words and front row tickets.

I don’t expect anything apart from honesty and respect. I said that before, right? We even talked about it. See; lately, I don’t always feel that respect anymore. You are too sure of yourself, or so it seems to me. And that’s what lets me keep my distances right now.

By now, we both know that I am more to you than you let on. We both know it. It’s in the way we talk and the words you chose. What we know too is that you punish yourself — living a fantasy that can never come true. It’s easier to reject people; me, when I set the limits myself.

One of your first concerns was that I would fall in love with you. You said that you could not fall in love with me and that it could never happen. You even asked if it hurt me when you said the words, but once again I said that I already have a man in my life who I love dearly. You said that every woman you ever loved left you. And you sounded so sad and resigned. I hope my words that day were a bit like a hug.

There is so much about you to love. More than you see. I am untouchable for you, though. Unreachable. And maybe that is exactly what you need, what you want? It lets you pretend that you will not be hurt like emotionally although we both know that you are already hurting. The truth is, you are scared. Scared that someone could love you for who you really are — scared that someone might see you and see all the craziness in your head and still love you. At the same time, you need that love. Crave it. I can hear the longing when you speak. It will never happen if you punish yourself with pushing everyone who tries to love you out.
A lost soul, that’s who you are. Afraid to be found. Afraid to be understood. But I do. I understand. And maybe that scares you even more.

I don’t need you in my life, but I let you in willingly. There’s a place in my heart for you. Just for you. You deserve love. And you are not alone. You are valuable. Your writing changes people, brings them inner peace and joy. And pretend all you want, talk about serenity, spirituality, and calm for hours on end, but regardless of what you say, you haven’t found them. Or maybe you once felt them inside, but they wandered off?

Could I ever dare to ask this question? Do you still have dreams? Are you too broken and lost to find hope?
You said you feel old. You aren’t old. Just tired. And it doesn’t help that you neglect yourself, your body; your emotional and physical health. You are better than that, and you deserve better than that.

I know that your perfect person is waiting for you. Somewhere. Maybe it is me. Who knows? I believe that this person is the piece that is missing for you to be complete.

I believe in this; we are fragments blown away, that can only find peace when we are put back together. Complete. I am not sure if I could complete you. No, I probably couldn’t.
But the fact remains that I see you — your pain and your misery too. I can’t end it or make it go away, but I can be there for you. I want to be there for you.

Am I still a stranger, that’s what I wonder. And if I am, why do you rely on me to cry and to talk freely? Is it because I am not there; not real? If you keep everyone at a distance, you don’t have to be you. You can hide behind your words and your talent. You can pretend to be someone you are not. But hiding your true self makes you unhappy and miserable.

We are the same, you and me. You just had more time to become the jaded person you are while I was lucky enough to have someone stop my downward spiral at the right time. You stopped it. Made me open my eyes and see. Made me happy, at least for a while.
Life is hard at times. Feeling rootless is too. You ask me to tell you that I love you. In my own way, I do. And yet, that one question is the opposite of what you said when we met. Why should I love you if you will not love me back? Why do you need to hear those words from me so often? Is it already too late? Perhaps you are already genuinely in love with me? We will both laugh about this, right? We are not the romantic kind of people, we’ve established that a long time ago when I asked you never to forget me.

I know that I had you after you read my first email. I had you after the first time you heard my voice. You were mine when opened up about your fantasies and I didn’t flinch or ran away. I had you after the second time you asked if I was there and I said yes. I will always say yes.

And that is what I see in you, and that is why you love me. And I love you too.

The one you will never have

Letter to a stranger – happy new year

Dear stranger,

First of all, happy new year. I didn’t send an email or message for Christmas this year. I preferred not to get in touch. We both know how bad it is for our sanity when we are a part of the other.

Today I made a list of all the reasons why I never loved you. I wished everything I came up with were true, but you know well that it isn’t. I miss you so much. I miss the way we were and the way we never were. Maybe it is all just a huge pile of turds.

I loved your eyes

I loved your hands

I loved your voice

I loved your words

I loved your smile

I loved your c*ck (a lot)

I loved your humour

I loved the way you touched me

I loved your vulnerability

I loved your creativity

I loved your thoughts

I loved that you saw me in the dark

I loved me when you loved me.

I loved everything about you. Every moment we shared; every tear we cried; every heart-felt laughter. I even loved the sounds you made – all of them.

If I were a drama queen, I would tell you that I don’t want to live without you. I knew love; I tasted it in your arms and on your skin. I would beg you to come back to me.

But here is the truth: I know that you are happier without me. And I know that you love her. You deserve to be happy. I am glad that you are. And I don’t want you to be back. I couldn’t handle it. It would probably kill me.

If I were able to let you go, I would find my own happiness too.

You are probably wondering why I am still attached to you after all these months. I can only guess; I guess it is because you were the first person to love everything about me. You didn’t try to change me or my moods. The nagging voice inside my brain says it is because you didn’t care at all. Maybe it is true.

I still like the memories we made. I still like you even if you hurt me like no one before.

I miss your hugs. I miss the way you took care of me. I miss who I was with you. Wish you were here. I am a little obsessed with our past right now. I am looking back at the time when I was less alone and lonely. Must be the time of the year, I don’t know. Everyone is looking forward to the change of the new year. Everyone is making plans for the future. But the year cannot change us if we are not ready to change. I don’t make sense at all. I feel silly admitting all these things. Every healthy woman would drop you and move on. But you were my breath, and some days I think back to that time when you told me how to breathe… You left a void nobody can ever fill, no matter how hard they try. Could it be that I am addicted to the way I felt with you? Could it be that I miss how I felt, not who made me feel that way? Am I giving you too much credit? Will I ever be able to take back my life?

I hope you think of me with a fond smile once in a while. I wish I left a small trace inside of you. Something good.

Forever not yours,

Sweetie