Thursday

Dear Niki,

Hi. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Actually I have been writing you letters for a while, but I didn’t know it was you I was writing to.  When the realization hit me, I cried.  Where should I begin?  Now that I know who you are I feel like we have so much to catch up on.

Let’s start with why I am writing to you.  We’re married, sort of.  I’m married to the person you became.  I don’t know how to explain that.  We’ve both changed a lot, I guess.  I’m not sure I’m really the same person I was then either.  But I need to talk with you.  You specifically.  Not the person you are now.

You see, before you and I met I had my heart broken.  And before that, I had this idea in my head of what a relationship would be like.  I fantasized about goofing around with my future husband and about how he would talk to me and how he would feel about me and how he would treat me.  Like in a romantic comedy.  But then that idea was crushed.  But D wasn’t a bad guy, you know.  There was nothing wrong with him and he didn’t mistreat me but he didn’t feel that way about me so it can’t be helped.  I mean, he just didn’t seem to like me I guess?  He didn’t want to learn more about me, didn’t find my stories interesting.  I learned to keep them to myself because it hurt seeing how little he cared.  And again, that’s not his fault.  He just didn’t feel that way about me and that’s why he broke up with me.  It makes sense.  It happens.  I’m glad it did because then I met you.

When I met you, I had stopped believing in that fantasy romance.  I believed it only existed in movies and real love was what I had with D.  A disinterested guy around whom I had to restrain my personality so as not to annoy him or scare him away.  But you weren’t like that.  You adored me.  You wanted to know me, wanted to hear about my day, wanted to be involved in every part of my life.  I remember going to see some movie with my mom shortly after we met and for the first time in a long time I didn’t feel depressed when I saw a love story.  Because you really treated me that way and you really felt that way about me and for once I felt hopeful.

Hope can be scary.  I’m sorry for what I did to you.  I wish I could take it back.  I know I’ve explained it a million times already but I was just not ready for you.  When I felt myself falling for you all I could think of was how much it hurt when D left and I was terrified.  I didn’t know what I was giving up.

That was the last time I really talked to you, I guess.  Because when I came back, you weren’t you anymore.  You had become him.  The one I’m married to now.  And I love him.  I absolutely do, to the depths of my soul.  I would do anything for him.  But he doesn’t talk to me the way you talked to me.  I don’t think he loves me the way you loved me.

So for a long time I felt very lost.  I wrote to the man behind the mirror, who was this imaginary friend, for lack of a better word.  The person who I was sure must exist who really cared about me, who worried about me, who wanted to know what I was thinking and feeling.  And then one night I realized it was you I was writing to.  It was you I was longing for.

I miss you so much.

I don’t know…should I write again?

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