Hey there, Hot Stuff…

I know you’ll never see this letter, and I suppose I should be grateful for that, but I still feel so stupid for writing it. Stupid because there’s no reason my feelings should be this strong and my heart should hurt this badly. We were only talking for a few short weeks but, man, I fell HARD and I fell FAST. But now it’s all over and I’m left here to pick up the pieces. I’m sure you’re happy with her, and that’s great. I want you to be happy. But I want to be happy too. So, in an attempt to help heal my broken heart, I just wanted to write down (almost) all the things I’ll never get to say:

-When you first messaged me after we matched for the 4th time in as many years, you said “the universe just wants us to be together.” I responded by saying “and who are we to tell the universe it’s wrong?” Well, we called the universe’s bluff and now I feel like I’m the one paying the price for it. You get to move on and fall in love and I get to sit at home, too afraid to go out anywhere in case I run into you. If I need to drive through your neighborhood to get somewhere, I’ll take a longer route just to avoid the possibility of seeing you.

-I still walk the dog on that nature trail and by the park where we had our first date. I feel safe there because you didn’t know it existed before I told you about it, and there’s a very slim chance you’ll ever go back. It’s the dog’s favorite route to walk along though, so I still take him every day after work. But it breaks my heart to be there because all I can think of is you, and our conversation, and the way my head rested perfectly on your chest when we hugged because you’re so tall, and the way your lips felt pressed against mine.

-the dog is on a diet and I hate that every time I feed him, the sound of kibble and chicken falling into his bowl is replaced with your laughter as you said “aww no look at him, he ain’t missing no meals!” He was wary of you, but oddly enough I think he misses you. When we pass by someone on our walks that looks even remotely like you, his tail will wag uncontrollably and he tries to jump on them. He still growls a bit, but he just seems sad when he realizes it’s not you. I do too.

-I hate doing laundry now because doing laundry means I need to open the closet door where the washer and dryer are. The same door you picked me up and pressed me up against, my legs wrapped around your waist, when you did everything you could to turn me into putty in your hands. I want to pull those doors off the hinges so I don’t have to look at them every day.

-You ruined chocolate chip cookies for me. They were my favorite midnight snack and now all I think about is baking late-night, post-sex cookies with you. I’ve been fortunate to live my entire life without any allergies, but now it feels like just one cookie will kill me. Even when I pass by the pre-made dough in the grocery store, I can feel my heart constrict and my throat close up.

-You ruined Star Wars for me. I thought it was so cute how you, a chemistry nerd, never saw the penultimate nerd series. I was excited for our plans to have a movie marathon. I was excited to show you to the galaxy. Now I stop the microwave before the timer hits 0:00 because it sounds like R2-D2 and it makes me lose my appetite.

-I bought new lingerie I was hoping to surprise you with. It arrived in the mail after we stopped talking. I can’t even force myself to try them on to make sure the sizes are correct. They’re just sitting in a drawer with the tags still on, collecting dust. I used to feel sexy and confident in my underwear. Now I feel like a sheepish little girl, too afraid to undress in the locker room before PE class.

-I told you I didn’t want kids, and that only one man in my entire life truly made me consider starting a family, but that he hurt me so badly I was completely sworn off. That was a lie. Maybe not at first, but it became a lie. When I found out you had a kid, after the shock and hurt subsided, after you spoke of how much you love your child, there was a second man I could see holding my child in his arms. You. A gorgeous little creature who would be the best parts of you and me put together. Now I fear that if I ever have children, I’ll resent them because they won’t be half of you.

-I hate that every time I see a car like yours, my heart skips a beat. I almost got into an accident the other day because I thought I passed you on my way into town. I’m afraid to drive now because all I do is look out for your car, wondering if you’re looking out for mine.

-I hate how deeply I care about you, and how I wish you nothing but the purest love and happiness. I hate that I can’t hate you. It would all be so much easier if I hated you. I wouldn’t be hurting so much. I could chalk this all up to the fact that you’re an asshole. A player. You used me and threw me away. But that’s not you. You’re kind and caring and gentle and, if I had only given us a proper chance, I could have known what it would feel like to be truly loved by you.

-I hate that I swallowed my pride and apologized, when I honestly didn’t have much to apologize for, only to be met with silence. My pride was all I had left, and now that’s gone too. And I especially I hate how pathetic and desperate this all sounds. After my last serious heartbreak, I put so much time and effort into myself, and I reminded myself that I am amazing and anyone is lucky to have me. Now I’m back to apologizing for using up oxygen.

-I hate that I believed you when you said you still wanted me, desired me, even though I could feel the distance between us growing larger. And I hate that now you’re so cold, so indifferent. I hate that you act like it was all just in my head. Even if it was, I wish you would just say that instead of leaving me with radio silence. It would be easier to understand that maybe I really am just obsessive or crazy, than to be left wondering how it all went wrong. But I know there’s nothing to wonder about. You said that if you didn’t want to talk to me, you wouldn’t. It appears you are a man of your word. I just wish I took you at your word when I still had the chance.

-You said I don’t know you or understand you, and I hate that you’re right. I hate that you don’t know or understand me either. We never gave each other the chance to. And I hate that we’ll probably never get that chance again.

-I want you to be happy, and I hope she does make you happy. But, like I said, I want to be happy too. I want to be with you. I want to hear your laugh again, see your perfect smile again, hear your heart beat as I lay on your chest again. I want to feel you in me again, holding me tightly. I want to sit on the swing with you, my legs across your lap as I listen to you tell me all your wildest stories. I want to feel your lips press against my forehead as you slip out of bed. I just want to feel like you care again. Even if it was all in my head.

I know we may never speak again, but I want you to know that I will always want you. And I hate that. But I don’t hate you. Not even a little bit.

Yours, always.

Baddie