You might never read this. I hope that you do.
When we met you, he and I were on a date. I’ve known him for years. We’ve always been friends. He and I started our whirlwind romance that day, and I guess in a way so did the two of you. I didn’t know it then – but I have a feeling you did.
I saw the way you looked at him that day. I’m sure you still look at him that way. He was singing and you were swooning, and I was proud because even though he and I weren’t romantic yet he was more mine than anyone else’s in that room, in that moment. Even now that he’s a little less mine, I will always be proud of him. Always. We have that in common, I guess.
Even when he and I were together I was a little afraid of you. It’s a compliment, I promise. You seemed fantastic – from what he tells me, I know you are. At the same time, you always seemed to be around when I wasn’t. I could tell you were interested. He shrugged it off because he’s a guy. Guys always think everyone’s into them and thus figure it’s just them being conceited and that no one actually is. Logical, I know.
I’m a female. I get it. You liked him. I did, too. That’s how I knew. These are just my assumptions, of course – I don’t want to claim to know how you felt or feel; that’s just the way it seemed.
You knew I was in the picture, and yet you stayed. I don’t blame you – you saw what I saw in him too, and you wanted a chance. You persisted. Eventually, you succeeded. I was cut out of the picture and you were pasted in where I used to be. You did it, you got him, that’s that. You probably assume that I’m angry. I was for a bit. Mostly, I’m sad.
Maybe that’s not how you see it. Maybe that’s not how it happened. We all read stories differently. This story had a journey that some might say was wrong, and some might say was right. That’s ok. Who am I to judge a point of view? All stories are beautiful.
We always blame the other girl. It’s never the guy’s fault, is it? It’s so easy to blame the one we’re not in love with. I never liked the idea of you, it’s true, and I’m sure you didn’t like the idea of me either. I’m sure you still don’t. I don’t understand what happened, honestly.
I don’t hate you, and I refuse to blame you.
Of course I’m a little angry. I’m a human. We get angry sometimes, especially when our feelings are involved. My feelings were taken on a great adventure and then left out at sea to find their own way back to safety. Anger has a lot of time to stew when it’s stuck at sea.
We fell in love with the same person. It happens. It’s not rare. It happens all the time, I’m sure. Eventually, one person stops loving, or has to love in a different way, because the other person fit the person we loved better.
The love is yours to have now. I want you to know, I’m not going to try and take that from you, ever. That will never be the kind of person I am. It is yours, and I will find my own. I am not a danger to you. I’m not a threat. I’m a person who loved the one you love and now has moved on my loving way. I would never get in your way.
I respect you. It’s important to me that you know that. I don’t know why, but it is.
I think you dislike me, and I hope you won’t always. It will be hard and it will be awkward, but I want to be your friend. Maybe that seems weird. Most people wouldn’t want that probably. I at least want us to be able to have lunch or be in the same room and not have to feel like we have someone we need to avoid. I hate holding grudges. I hate not being able to love people.
I’m not holding grudges, in fact. I can’t. I don’t have any more room in my heart for that. Love has big feet.
Yeah, the situation sucks. He had to choose and therefore both of us felt devalued. We felt not so special because he liked someone else besides us. I think it just means we’re both so great that it was hard to choose. None of the three of us meant to hurt anyone. We did, but we didn’t mean to. That’s the assumption I’m working on, because it’s better to assume good in people than otherwise.
He loves you, you know. I know you know. And, when someone you love decides to start loving someone else, you have to start loving that person. Even if it’s weird and it hurts, that new person makes the person you love so happy, and so you have to start loving them, too. You just, have to. That’s how it goes.
That’s how it is for me.
I know it’s weird and it hurts, even on your side. I won’t deny you that. I hope though, that you will let me love you. Eventually.
I guess maybe people in our situation aren’t usually friends. That’s just not me though. We don’t have to be like everyone else. We can set an example. We can start a revolution! Or maybe we can just be friends. Or something. When someone takes your toy in kindergarten, you’re sad and mad about it for a while and then you get over it. Then you become friends because it’s way more fun that way, isn’t it? He’s not a toy, but you get what I mean. Let’s just be kindergarteners, ok?
To all of the new loves of their lives, this is for you. Let’s not hate each other because we feel threatened. Let’s put down the weapons. We’re just humans trying to figure this all out. We’re wrong a lot. We feel nasty things.
My honest feelings are that you are here, and I want to learn to trust you. We can learn together.
We have things in common, you know. He only loves people with big hearts and beautiful minds. We both probably think he’s an idiot a lot of the time. It’s a start. It’s a foundation. It’s something.
This isn’t for him. This is for you, the new love of his life. I am happy for you, and I hope eventually you’ll be happy to know me too. Let’s get used to each other together.
You wrote a beautiful story, my dear. I hope you’ll let me read it sometime.