I always liked laundry day. I know you think that is crazy. But it was special because it was so normal. Sitting in the laundromat and just chatting over coffee just felt normal – no expectations, no drama. It was a time to be with you. And I wanted to be with you every minute you would let me.
"I think it's time for [me] to slowly disappear. I will quietly walk away. I won't contact you, bother you. I will not tell you when I will be in XX, and I will not talk to you unless you speak to me first.... Good luck! Please stay safe!"
I’m sad. You have been disappearing from me for years, but now even the last bits seem to be going away. I struggle about contacting you. I feel like an intrusion into your life (and I always have felt that). You’ve told me in the past not to contact you. You’ve moved away, moved on, and settled down. I know that you are unhappy at times – as you have told me.
When I write, it feels like I am saying the wrong things. Or at least things that can be taken the wrong way. So, I will try to be as clear as possible.
- I want you to be happy
- I don’t want to be a distraction or annoyance
- I don’t want to interfere with your pursuit of your own joy
- I understand you will never return, and I need to accept that
- I am not trying to impose my opinions on you. When I say something, it is my observation or feeling, not me telling you how you feel or should feel.
- I loved you in a way that is special to only you. I don’t think I could ever love anyone as much as I love you. And I will always love you.
I know that what I want is impossible. And after six years you’d think I’d learn my lesson. Mostly, I don’t want to be sad anymore.
So, I don’t know where to go or what to do from here, other than just get up each morning and find a way through the day. I believe this is similar to your struggle – trying to get through each day to reach the next. (I am not saying it is, just that this is my observation.)
