In another life, or even at another point in history, you would be mine, I would be yours, and that would be the end of it. No questions asked, and no conundrums to debate — just you and me, and the rest of the world around us.
When I say that I’ve never met anyone like you, there’s nothing fabricated or embellished about it. One of the traits I admire most about you is that when we talk, I feel that you actually care and are actually listening.
In today’s world of self-absorption, it’s commonplace for people to nod along aimlessly while your lips move until you finally break long enough for them to say their peace, preach about their problems, and talk about what they want to talk about. That’s not the case with you.
There are things I swore that I would never discuss with anyone ever again, and yet I brought them up with you on our first date. There are thoughts I swore that I would never bring to life, and yet I’ve done it with you regularly. Maybe it’s your attentive ear or your engaging eyes, but there’s something about you that makes me feel safe, and that feels like home.
I’ve opened up more with you than I ever thought I would, and you’ve stuck around much longer than I ever thought you would, and there is nothing I would change about either of those.
But as much as I’ve given you — my eyes to look into, my hands to hold, my body to lie against — I can’t give you all of me.
For all the locks you’ve disintegrated, and for all the doubt you’ve erased, there’s still a part of me that I cannot relinquish: my heart.
And you know exactly why — it’s with someone else.
I’ve tried for months to retrieve it, even pieces of it, but all attempts have been futile. I know that must frustrate you, even if you’ll never admit it, and I completely understand. I’m also sorry.
I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to break out of this trance of what can only be delusion at this point. I’m sorry that I can’t be more of what you may want, and more of what you certainly deserve.
Blame them. I know you want to. Hell, I want to.
The crazy part is that I truly feel that you’d want things to work out between me and her just because you know how happy it would make me, and the only thing crazier than that is the fact that it makes me care for you that much more.
It’s so rare in this world for us to find someone who genuinely cares about our happiness, and I believe that if we’re lucky enough to find someone like that, we should keep them in our lives in any capacity possible.
That’s my plan for you. Whether we date, get married, or end up just being friends for the next several decades, I know that I’ll always want you in my life in some facet.
If it ever works out between me and her, I know that in some weird way you’d be the first person I’d want to tell. If it never does, hopefully she’ll at least send me on my way with whatever is left of my heart.
If it ever works out between you and me, I’m happy to give you the battered and bruised remnants of what she never wanted to begin with. If it never does, at least you’ll know whom to blame.