Dear love,

Is it really that hard to say that you love me in front of someone else? I don’t understand. I listen to you talk to a friend on the phone and you end the conversation with, “I love you!” You do it so easily because you know no one is going to mistake that love as anything other than the love of a friend for another friend.

Then, last night, when I called you and you were with someone else, and when I said, “I love you,” you fell silent. You tried to compensate with something about having a good night, or seeing me soon, but the pause and missing profession of love was evident, palpable, tangible. I realize it’s because of multiple reasons, who you were with not wanting to or ready to answer questions, and also because, knowing your own feelings, you fear they would show more than the love you expressed to your friend. Read the rest of this entry »

Dear love,
I guess it’s time I confessed. It’s been on my mind for a long time, and the only reason I haven’t said anything is because I know how many people would be hurt by my words. If my position were different, if family wasn’t an issue, let me confess… I wouldn’t be here.

I love my family, even the partner who I no longer share a bed with. I’m pretty sure most people think I don’t love him, but it’s not true. I love him deeply, but no longer as the ‘gay young lovers’ we once were. The love we had, the passion and adoration, no longer exists. If I had had a brother, he is the one I would have chosen. A friend, someone who supports me and does not question my decisions, only watches me muddle my way through them and picks up the pieces at the other end. I love him my way, and most people would say ‘my way or the highway’ is akin to a motto for me. Read the rest of this entry »

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

Dear Ex Love,

Sometimes, I forget that I’m not supposed to be in love with you anymore.

I walk past your favorite food in the grocery store and think I’d like to buy it for you for dinner. Then I remember I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

I drive by the donut shop on Eight Street and remember when we used to sit there together and eat the hot donuts early in the morning. My heart flutters and I feel those butterflies inside. Then I remember I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

I drive home to the house we used to share, see your car in the drive, and I get excited to see you. Then I remember I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

The problem is, I do love you. I mean, I know we haven’t been able to work things out. I know that life has lead us in different directions and we’ve grown apart. I know that we aren’t meant to be together forever.

But I can’t help but remember the feelings, the love, the ‘real’ between us. It’s not like love can turn on a switch and turn it back off again at a whim. I’m reminded of Kenny Rogers’ song, “I can’t unthink about you. I can’t unfeel your touch…” It’s true. I can’t unlove you.

So when you’re packing up our lives and moving part of it away from me, I hope you know that somewhere in the pictures, the remnants, the memories… there, buried beneath all that past, is my love for you.

And maybe, when it comes time to divide up his and hers, yours and mine, and we walk away from the singular life we were supposed to live together, until death, and both begin living our new lives, separately, we can be kind to each other.

Maybe through the lawyers, the courts, the judges, the mediation and separation of property, we can look fondly at each other and remember the love, honor it.

Because even though I know we aren’t going to be together anymore, my heart hasn’t quite figured out yet that I’m not supposed to love you anymore. Somewhere inside of you, I know you feel the same way. Just because we can’t be together anymore doesn’t mean we have to release the love, the one good thing that was between us.

I learned a long time ago that sometimes love just isn’t enough. It wasn’t for us. Still, I need to believe that love matters, even if it’s not enough to hold together.

Someday, maybe I’ll look back and remember that I once loved you. It’s going to be awhile before that happens though, because right now, my heart just doesn’t understand yet that I’m not supposed to love you anymore.

Love,
Your soon to be ex wife

Hi Mama,

It’s strange that I’ve never written to you before because I think about you all the time.  When you passed away on that dreadful day over fifteen years ago, I thought I would never get over it.  I never did.

I sat with you as you lie in the hospital bed, gently moving the wisps of hair off your forehead.  I knew what was ahead and I dreaded the moment that you would leave me.   I knew you were ready to meet Jesus, just like you always wanted.

I hope heaven is everything you ever dreamed of.  I hope you are with Daddy and all the family and friends you loved so much in your life.  If ever a person deserved to be in heaven, it is you, Mama.  You sacrificed everything for your five children and your husband.  You gave us everything you had to give even when we didn’t seem to appreciate it.

I loved you so much and the regrets I have for not having shown you are deep within my heart now.  I hope this letter reaches you in some way, maybe just from the thoughts it sends through the universe.  Maybe you can catch a few of my words in your hand and hold them to your heart like you used to hold my hand.

Can you see me now?  Do you look over the grandchildren who have missed the wonderful years you could have given them?  I tell them about you and Dad and about the times we laughed and cried.

I thank God every day for giving me to you.  I couldn’t have asked for a more loving mother and friend.  I wish I could be half the mother to my children that you were to me.  You taught me about love, sacrifice, and an enduring spirit.  Thank–you for everything Mama.  Please be happy, at peace, and full of joy through all eternity.  I hope to hug you again someday, if I’m worthy.

Love,
Karen

~~~

Brian,

When you left, I wanted to be angry. I couldn’t find it in me, but I wanted to be angry. Sometimes, in anger, you find strength and I desperately needed strength. But I couldn’t get angry. The only thing I felt was sadness. Overwhelming sadness.

You left me for someone else. You lied about it, but I knew the truth. I had always known the truth, all along, but knowing and wanting to see or act on the truth are different things. I was miserable, but somehow, I was comfortable in my misery. It was familiar. It was… safe?

As I knew would happen, you left… and that’s when I wanted to be angry. Eventually, a few months later, the anger did hit me, and the more I became angry, the more I learned about the truth of your deception… oh, how many months I played a fool.

What fueled my anger? I was angry that you thought I was stupid enough that I didn’t know.

I knew. I knew all along. I was imply too tired, too miserable and too sick to do anything about it.

So you did what I couldn’t bring myself to do and you left. You left me for her. I will never forget the day when I discovered the whole, unadulterated truth of adultery… your adultery, infidelity. You broke my trust, but that wasn’t really even the worst of it. You kept me hanging on by a thin thread, ‘just in case’ things didn’t work out between you and the whore who you let seduce you.

Typically I wouldn’t call the other woman a whore, because I’d figure she was simply lied to by you as much as I was, but in this case, it was very clear she knew exactly what the score was when she posted blog posts laughing about how stupid I was for not knowing how long this had all been going on. She laughed, reveled in it.

You used me, and yet, I truly put as much fault and blame on her as I do on you. You see, you used me, but that’s just who you are. She knew better and chose to act the way she did. I don’t think you can help it. It’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.

So when you came to me and I finally confronted you, I told you then, “She’s going to cheat on you, do to you what you just did to me, and she’s going to break your heart and trust. I hope I’m there to see it when it happens.”

Guess what? I was there. It happened, and I was there.

And I learned something. It’s true that what goes around comes around. It’s true that we get back what we put out into the world. It’s also true that living well truly IS the best revenge.

When you asked me if I was happy, and I said I was, I could clearly hear the sadness in your voice. You had hope… hope, such a volatile little word. I had hope once. I had hope for a family and a friend and a lover who I could trust, who would treat me right, never hurt me, never break my trust. You promised those things to me, and you failed.

Now it’s you who comes back to me and has hope. You want me back. You regret so much. You miss me and wish you had never made the mistakes you have made. You still love me.

But I don’t love you anymore.

Do you know how powerful it is to be able to say that and truly mean it?

See, I don’t wish you ill will. I don’t want you to hurt. I’ve moved past you and on with me life. There was a time I sought revenge and wished you ill, but I don’t anymore. Now, I just want you out of my life. I don’t hurt for you anymore. I’m not angry anymore. I’m not sad, not upset, not worried, not bothered… I simply… don’t… care.

Retribution.

Universal justice.

And I didn’t have to do a thing to make that happen.

I’m not happy you’re hurting, but I don’t hurt for you. I’m not taking pleasure in your pain, but I’m not feeling pain for or with you. I’m not excited that my prophecy came true.

But I am satisfied.

So did I write this letter to gloat, brag about how good my life is?

No.

I wrote this letter because I want to thank you. I want to thank you for treating me so horribly that I could recognize, truly treasure, when someone came along who treats me good. I want to thank you for leaving, so that I was free to choose to love when he did come along. I want to thank you for being strong enough or stupid enough to walk away when I was not strong enough to do so for myself.

I also want to thank you for giving me back my faith in the universe, perhaps even my faith in God. I’ve always been told that you reap what you sow, that what goes around comes around, that what you put out there comes back to you multiplied.

Guess what? You proved that. Thank you for proving that to me. That you for affirming my faith in universally dealt justice. Because, you see, if it’s true that you reap what you sow, I’ve planted a nice harvest in my world, my life, my heart. I know now that it will all come back around for me.

In fact, it’s already started…. It started when he said, “I do, with all my heart, I do…” and it continued when you said your life had come full circle.

Now I move forward firm in the knowledge that I will get my due, reaping a harvest of love, faith, generosity and gratitude.

For the first time since you left, I can honestly say, “I wish you well…”

No longer yours,
Karla

Dear Sean,

Dear Ryan,

In this world, I thought I was smart, learned, educated… I had been through hell, been to heaven, and everywhere in between…
so much I had experienced, so much I thought I knew.

And then there was you.

I learned from you that as much as I thought I knew, I had only begun to understand and know the world around me. I never knew the sky could be quite so blue or a sunset so beautiful as when I watched it through your eyes, watching me.

I never knew what family really meant.

I never knew the comfort of complete, unconditional acceptance.

I never knew that friendship didn’t have to take a backseat to passion.

I never knew passion didn’t have to take a backseat to friendship.

I never knew true friendship.

I never knew true passion.

I never knew love.

No, I mean real love.

I never knew freedom. Freedom to be myself.

Safety.

Security.

I never knew I was beautiful.

I never knew I was worthy.

I never knew how humble I was until you were proud of me.

I never knew me.

To think that I could have lived my entire life without you, thinking I knew so much, when all I ever needed was to know you in order to know everything.

You are every romantic cliche ever written and every love song ever sung. Your name is whispered in every line of every piece of poetry I read and write. Where once I only wrote the words, where once I could only sometimes feel them, now I live the words I write, with passion…

…and understanding.

I never knew I was alive until you taught me how to live. I never knew how much I had, until you showed me how to give.

I never knew…

… and then there was you.

And now I know.

~~~

Michelle L Devon (Michy) is a writer, editor, poet… she’s also a professional dreamer. In fact, she created Unsent Letters, and decided that since it’s her baby, she can put up a letter of her own today! Enjoy!