A Letter of Brief Remorse

Dear _____,

I never thought I’d say this, but I miss you. We were meant to be temporary, we weren’t meant to last. Yet here I am, reminicing about us, remembering the [close-to a] year we had together. I know that everything we had is in the past now, and I should be moving forward, but I keep going back to it.

You made me feel so special.

And you were right, no one will love me the way you did, even if that love came with a lot of baggage. I have never felt so important. I guess I got used to the attention. I crave it now. I feel sad and unsatisfied when I don’t get it. You spoiled me. We had such great sexual chemistry, we were able to have sex way more often, and mind you – on a really nice bed that you had in your small apartment. Yeah, you smoked a pack of Peter Jackson’s a day, you’d go through an entire bottle of Gibson’s (aged 15 years) a day, but I remember when I was around, that bottle would last you a week, and that pack would at least last two days. I didn’t want you to change for me, but I definitely had a positive effect on you.

The amazing sex we’d have, the way you couldn’t keep your hands off of me, the way your face lit up every time you saw me – I felt so loved. I felt like your number one, I never felt for a second that I was a compromise, you made me feel like I was your dream come true. It was such an amazing feeling, it’s almost selfish of me to say that I never wanted to let it go. If we weren’t fucking, we were bored, smoking hash and weed, having a few drinks, eating out, watching tv on your couch while you cuddled me and fell asleep. The way you’d eat me out, or tease me right before we had sex. The way you made every effort to get me to cum, we would go sometimes three rounds, which is more than what I expected for a man your age.

We’d go to The Keg together and share appetizers together, you were never a big eater. I loved the way our dinner talk would always lead to sexual innuendos. But that’s all we really had wasn’t it? Sex. I don’t think we had anything else going for us besides that.

You made me feel so sexy. I felt so beautiful, I woke up every morning knowing someone loved me and you’d always let me know that you did. I’m sorry I didn’t love you the same. I don’t think I ever could. I was just infatuated with you, I just wanted to fuck you and the attention you gave me became a huge bonus. Of course, it came at a cost. You were possessive, you were controlling. You caused me a lot of stress with how demanding you were. You always wanted to see me, you wanted me to be your wife, you wanted me to move in with you, things I couldn’t do. I’d try to be with you as much as I could but there was only so much I could do. I was never as open as I wanted to be with you. Despite you always trying to get me to open up and talk to you, I felt that no matter what you wouldn’t understand me and possibly judge me. I don’t feel that way anymore with the man I’m with now. He makes me feel like I can say anything and means it. And I do for the most part.

I missed being young too. I wanted to go out with my friends, and live my life. I felt like I was reporting to another parent. You were like a father that I liked to fuck – which I guess in itself is fucked up. I’ll never be able to love you the way you loved me. And I knew it. You and I both knew that you weren’t going to get anyone better than me. Which sounds cocky, but given the fact that you were a 53 year old divorced man, depressed, with two children (one of which was a year younger than me), – I of course looked like a saviour. I was your escape – your paradise; and you were mine.

I loved the surreal life that we lived, it was secret to a majority of people, but we didn’t mind going out in public together. I loved that we had your apartment to retreat to, I loved sleeping over, and escaping my life at home. I loved the double life. It was sometimes crazy to live in, but it’s better than the situation I’m in now. Even when you come into the bank, you look worn out, wrinkly and old, but I’m still attracted to you. I still melt a little whenever I see you or think of you. I loved the sound of your voice when I’d call you, I loved the way you called me baby. I loved any name you called me, even if it came off a little politically incorrect at times.

You were my Johnny Depp, you were my suave burly man that I loved to fuck. You made every sexual fantasy in my head come to life. You made sex so much fun. You’d never let me lift a finger for anything, I felt like a princess. I loved the music you shared with me, and the car rides we had in Betty. We never went far but you were always there for me. Like when I got into a car accident with Betty and you came with me all the way to Georgetown hospital with my sister and I. You were so sweet. You hated hospitals, they scared you to death; and yet you came to be by my side because you just couldn’t stand to see me hurt. You made me the most important person in your life, and I just couldn’t believe that a stranger could ever feel that way about another person.

I only intended for you to be a summer fling, but we ended up lasting a year because I just got so addicted to the attention. You had me on a string, even though you’d say the same to me. And now here I am, thinking despite the fights we had, and how much you pissed me off at times. How stressed out I was, and what a relief it was to finally end things with you. I realize that the love you had for me can’t be matched. I don’t even know if it was love, or obsession. Whatever the case, I need to move on.

Love like that doesn’t exist anymore, and I can’t expect anyone to give it to me. Nor should I even compare what I have now to what I had then. It’s completely different. I’m learning different lessons, and if anything, I’m learning to wean off this addiction I have to the attention you once gave me. It’s good for me. I need to do it. But I’ll tell you right now, like any addict, I don’t need to be doing it to remember what it felt like. I keep my distance from you for a reason, not just for you, but for myself. For the sake of the relationship I’m in now. I definitely need to learn to love myself the way you loved me, so that I won’t have to depend on anyone to do it for me. I won’t constantly need validation from someone that I’m worth it. Although, it would be nice.

I never loved you, but I did care for you deeply. I thought I was in love with the man I’m with now, but lately, I’m so up and down with him that I don’t even know what I’m feeling. What’s new right? I’ve always been flip-floppy with my feelings, even with you. I have such a problem comitting, why anyone wants to be with me is a shocker. Anyway, this is getting to be longer than I intended. I guess this is my way of finally closing this chapter and saying goodbye, putting all my fond memories of you in a letter and sending it away for good. I wish you the best, and I hope you find happiness. To be honest, let’s hope I find some too.




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