Last night was one of the best of my life. I had dinner and amazing conversation with the man with whom I am smitten. It’s hard to say that, since I have been so in love with you for so very long.
You had been warned. I talked to you a couple of weeks ago and told you about my new romance. It pissed you off.
I saw you last week. I wasn’t proud of it, and I will write about it later. But I did. And I felt awful.
Especially after my conversation last night with Mr. Lookalike. He truly wants me in every sense of the word. He’s an amazing man.
So I devised in my mind what I would say when I next heard from you. Which, honestly, I thought would be before today. I last saw you on a day with very bad weather. I never heard from you. You didn’t ask if I made it home OK, didn’t express any concern about me at all. I reached out once, in a fit of emotional angst over my new relationship, distressed because this new man thinks I’m wonderful and wants to spend every moment possible with me. I was struggling with accepting the fact that you don’t.
I had assumed you would eventually send me a text saying you love me and/or miss me. My planned response was to be Love the One You’re With.
Today I deleted you from my phone’s favorites. Then I deleted our text history. Over a year’s worth of texts. Had to be nearly 3,000. My phone went haywire afterward.
And then the text came in. I need to paraphrase since I have deleted it. It said something like, “Hi, how are you doing?’ That made it difficult to use the line I planned. Big Bro, however, told me to put on my Big Girl Panties and do the right thing.
I replied something like, “I am doing very well, actually never been better! I don’t know why you are asking, since you are supposed to be in [wife's native country] with your family. Love the One You’re With.”
That obviously went over your head. You texted back with why you didn’t leave the country and info about a work catastrophe. At the end, as an afterthought, you said you were glad I was doing well.
I remember my last text to you very well.
“I’m in a committed relationship with a man who makes me very happy. Please do not contact me again. Thank you.”
Your reply confirmed in my mind that I have done the right thing. Made the right choice. And while it seemed harsh, it didn’t hurt me as much as I would have thought it would.
“OK — Works for me! Good Luck!”
You didn’t say you were glad I was happy. You always told me you just wanted me to be happy. You never said you wanted to MAKE me happy. Well, Mr. Lookalike does. He says, “I want to make you happy.” He doesn’t want to lose me. And although his life is uncertain right now — where he will live, what kind of work he will do — he assures me that he wants me to be part of his life.
Good luck? I already have it.
A piece of my heart always will be with you. And you will continue to disrespect it for the rest of your life, just as you’ve disrespected my love for you over the past four years.
You are the one who needs luck.
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