To the man who let her go:

You don’t know me. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know you either, but I know of you. I also know your type. I also know and love someone you once claimed to love too. I suppose we have that in common, but that’s where the sameness ends. The biggest difference between us: I am smart enough to see that which was right in front of you and you neglected and abused.

How you could you look into her eyes and not see the love shining back at you? How could you look at that beautiful, soft face and not feel the desire to want to hold her, love her, touch her?

I don’t understand why you kept her at arm’s length. I don’t understand how you missed all the beauty both inside and outside of and around her.

She healed you inside. I know you felt it. I know you felt her healing touch, her love. I know you craved that from her. I crave it too, but I appreciate it, nurture it, treat it like the precious thing it is.

She made you feel like a man. I know. I’ve felt it too. I know you craved that from her as well, which is why you call, still, and try to be something to her that you never were, never will be again.

She never made you happy though, and somehow, you blamed her for that, never realizing that the reason for your unhappiness was inside of yourself, and not her fault… or anyone else’s for that matter.

It would be easy for me to dislike you, even hate you. As I said, I really don’t know you. But I do know that I am angry with you, and I wanted to tell you so. Out of respect for her, I know I’ll never get to tell you this in person. It’s a shame, because part of me wants you to hurt as badly as she was hurt by you.

I’m angry with you because you made it hard for her to trust me. When she and I first met, she was gun shy, afraid to commit, scared to risk her heart again.

I’m angry with you because you made me work harder to win her over, to prove to her that I love her, with all my heart. I never minded the work. She’s worth it. But that was time she and I could have been spending together, in love, sharing our lives, that you took away from us because of the damage you have done.

I’m angry with you that even now, after telling her yourself that she deserved more, you still call her or email or message her asking her to give to you something that is precious and should be reserved for that person who does give her more.

I’m angry that men like you say all the right words, throw all the right guilt, and push all the right lines to make women fall for you, and you abuse and misuse the trust they place in you, making it hard for people like me who would never take advantage of a true heart.

Yes, I’ve held her while she’s cried about you. Yes, I’ve listened to her when she needed to talk about you. Yes, I’ve been there for her when you should have been and weren’t.

And yet, there’s a part of her heart I’ll never hold. That part of her heart she gave to you, that she still, in part, reserves for you… hope, wishful thinking, past dreaming… it just doesn’t matter. You have damaged a part of her that I can never repair, never even touch.

And I hate you for it.

We will never meet, you and I, because you have your wife and she now has me, and life goes on for everyone. I know she still wants to be friends with you, because she’s a good-hearted woman and I would expect nothing less from her, but I know you and your type. The first time you call her up for a little phone sex, “Just one time, just one more time?” and she says no to you again, it’ll be longer before you call the next time, and then longer still, until eventually you just disappear from her life.

Years of friendship, love, gone.

You’ll never even realize how much you’ve lost, how much you let slip right through your fingers.

But I do.

I realize it every night I lay next to her in bed and feel her breathing slowly and put my arm around her waist and even in her sleep she reaches up to hold my hand. I realize it ever time we make love and I see her lips parted, her eyes full of lust and love, hear her rapid breathing and soft moans. I realize it every time I tell her I love her and I see the wonder in her eyes at hearing it.

One day, maybe she’ll fully believe that love, and maybe one day, she won’t flinch at the memory of you and how you used her. Maybe one day she’ll be able to give herself over completely to me without having you wedged in between.

So yeah, I hate you for what you’ve done to her, but I have to thank you for setting her free for me to find and love. You made me work a little harder, but as I said, she’s worth it.

After all, I truly do love her.

I do.

You’ll never know how much you walked away from, but I do.

But I do.

Sincerely,
The one who held her close