I was going to write about how much I miss you. How much I've wanted you here with me because of the crappy things that are going on in my life again, but I know I can't have you not only because you don't want me (which I have to work very hard to make myself believe, because this connection can only be maintained if there is two people doing it), but because I'm not good enough for you (which my friends would hurt me for just thinking).
I was going to go into the details of what my PTSD soaked brain has been doing to me because of a stupid allergic reaction... something I've never had in my life... and how this makes me know I'm not ready to have a partner of any kind, let alone the love of my life (neither of which is true because what I'm currently going through is completely a reaction to the steroids and not who I am).
I was going to say yet again how much this was better for both of us because you have your happy little family (which is what you really want, right?), and I have my dog (which is what I really want, or at least that's what I keep saying), and neither of us has to be unhappy together making compromises we don't want to make just to keep the other around (which no one really wants if they were all honest).
But just like so many other things in my life, they are lies.
The truth is I'm a chicken shit.
If I was honest about it, I use the PTSD and Fibromyalgia as excuses to keep everyone at arms length so I don't have to hurt anymore than I already do. But most especially you. Honestly, I don't want you to know that I feel this way about you, because if you did, I might have to do something about it... or you might... either way, more pain I don't want to deal with. And Goddess forbid if you felt the same way!! Then I would really be fucked because I'd have no more excuses. I don't want you to see me this way because I'm ashamed of who I am. I don't want you to know the things I have had to do just to survive.
So here's my truth. I love you. I always have. You were my first love, and I want you to be my last. I left you because it was the right thing to do, and I still believe that. We needed to grow up. To find out who we were without each other before we could form a life together. I just never in my wildest dreams imagined we wouldn't come back to each other. I pushed you out again because I didn't want to destroy what you already have... because I want you too much, and while I have been the mistress for other men, I couldn't be yours. But not a day has passed in almost 2 decades that I haven't thought of you, not even my wedding day. My life is a well ordered mess most days, and while I try hard to pretend that no one could ever fit into it, I think there is at least one person. I'm in so many ways the same scared little girl you had the courage to ask out all those years ago. The only real differences are, I've gotten better at hiding it most of the time, and for the very few who know this, it's obvious.
This is the most open I've been about anything in a long time. The most vulnerable. And while you'll never see it, maybe the Universe will, and will set me on the path to someone who can feel these things with me. Maybe help me realize that you aren't the only one in the World for me... or that you are... and how we can be together.