Conversation

You said the time had come, so here goes.

I love you. I've been in love with you since I was thirteen years old. I can't remember a single decision or choice I have made that you didn't influence in some way. And I miss you. I miss talking to you, touching you, just being close to you.
It is surprising, the things I miss the most. The ability to be completely content, just being in the same room. It wasn't necessary to talk, just being together was enough. You can't imagine how rare that is.

When you're around, you are all that matters. And when you aren't, nothing seems to matter at all. And that is a bit frightening. But if you were to ask me, I would leave my job, put the house on the market, pull Maria out of school and relocate to whatever place you wanted. Today.

As the days go by, and I don't hear from you, I find it more and more difficult to breathe. And when you sent me away, (and let's not forget that I knew exactly what I was doing) I just wanted to die. In fact, I'm just now getting beyond the temptation to open the window and be done with it. I won't, because it would kill Maria, and it would, I know, hurt you. But the temptation has been there.

I went back home and looked up our mutual friends, because of you. And I find that they still love me, even though I have spent all these years believing they wouldn't. We were like family, and I miss that. I'm looking forward to spending more time with them next year.

But above all the rest, the thing I want and need most is for you to be happy. The thought of you being unhappy or disappointed is unbearable. I need you to be careful, and safe, and content.

And I wouldn't change any of these things even if I could.