Dear Tracy, 

It's chilly outside. The weather has changed and I love it! In fact, I left work at lunch today and found a nearby park where I could sit, write, and enjoy it. I almost grabbed a latte on the way over. After a summer of iced coffees, I'm hoping this cooler weather means I can switch to warm for a few months.

Did you know that the cool air calms me every year? Getting hit with the first "omg, I need a hoodie" feeling each fall, calms my nervous system. And after the last couple of months, that feeling is welcome. 

While each year the changing of the seasons brings me peace, this year, I'm experiencing something slightly different  than previous years. For the first time ever, I find myself in my favorite weather, concerned... for you.

I can't imagine you're loving this. I'm picturing you in layers with your seat warmers on and your heater on full blast. I know it's just a matter of time before you find yourself in your bathroom more frequently, shivering while you fill up your tub. I'd like to say this concern is temporary, but I suspect for as long as I live, it will hit me every fall. Because you, my love, have imprinted on me in ways I struggle to fully understand. 

I'm not going to lie. Losing you has been the longest and hardest season of my life. I don't think I have ever cried as hard, or as often. No matter how hard I try to come to terms with your decision to go no contact, without so much as a goodbye, it's been hard on my soul. I want to heal, but my unwillingness or inability to be mad at you, is hindering any progress. But hurt and mad are two different feelings. One makes sense, the other doesn't.

Did your disappearance hurt me? I think the waterfalls I could fill with the tears I've shed over the last two months make that answer painfully obvious. As I'm sure you know, your silence has allowed my thoughts to run rampant, attempting to answer every question you left me with. Some of these thoughts are good. Some aren't. And some, admittedly, scare me. I know you hate that about me. You always got mad that I'd fill in the gaps... and when I did I assumed the worst. But, two and a half months ago you left me with no way to fill in those gaps and with no hope for a conversation we both deserved where I might get those answers.

But I'm happy to report that the cloud of devastation I've been existing in, is finally starting to lift. In fact... it's allowed me to see that your silence has been a blessing of sorts. Why? Because it leaves room for my empathy, kindness, and understanding... for you. And I decided this letter, put in this place, would be a good place to say why. 

Along my healing journey, the few I've confided in have tried so hard to be helpful. But truth be told, they are falling short. The general consensus is that I should paint you as a villain. Seemingly on repeat, I hear "She was trained on how to manipulate thoughts. You told her all of your trauma and all of your insecurities. Then, for months, she used that training to manipulate you into falling in love with her."  But sentiments like this have made me extremely uncomfortable and borderline angry, and here's why. 

First, implying that the only reason I loved you was because you manipulated me, is like saying that my free will wasn't in the room. But have you ever known a day in my life where I've let anyone tell me to do anything I didn't want to do? Yeah... me neither.  

Over the span of our friendship, I fell in love with your heart and mind. Then, when the hugs went a beat longer than expected, or your hand found mine under a blanket, or you held me and played with my hair for hours in bed, I was given the opportunity to not only want your body... but worship it. And eventually we both learned that our souls were tied together and had finally found their home. So, is it so hard to believe with the passion we had between us from seemingly day one, that I would fall in love with your heart, mind, body and soul? It actually makes a lot of sense to me.

Tracy, I have never in my life known a mind like yours. I've never had company where conversation flowed as effortlessly as it did between us. I've never known someone who is willing to debate and share opposing viewpoints, and who was able to do so without making me feel dumb.  Out of everything we ever did, talking to you was my absolute favorite and it is what I miss the most. You used to apologize for being too “serious” all the time. But what I should have done was tell you that I was in love with your mind. Yours was a mind that could rival mine, and you willingly let it did so. Each one of our conversations left me feeling more alive than I had ever felt before.

And your heart...you willingly and freely gave it to anyone who would accept it. Babe, your heart is generous, caring, warm, and felt like home. Your heart is one that I never had to question because I know at your very core, you are a GOOD human.  Your intent is to always make life better for everyone around you. But unfortunately, you are also quick to sacrifice your own heart, to make life better for everyone else. It made me so sad for you... and I believe it's that habit that brings us to where we are today. For the pain that habit has caused, I want to hate it... but try as I may, I can't. I will never be able to. Your heart is beautiful. Your heart is a gift. And for a moment in time, it was mine. 

And then, of course, there's your soul. When we met, you adamantly did not believe that souls existed. I had never really considered it, honestly. But you? You had given it time, thought and reason, and you said "nope! doesn't exist." But then one day you shared with me that meeting me had changed your perspective on souls completely... and you had determined that ours were tied together, linked for all time. To be honest, I still don't know what I believe... but I'll say this. If I do have one, it’s tied to yours. It's the only thing that explains the level to which we connected in so many ways. 

I fell in love with everything that makes you, you. All of the good and all of the bad, made you beautiful in every way... to me. I saw the beauty that is you, and I chose you. And I can't accept that you manipulated my mind into love you. No... I refuse to. Falling in love with you, Tracy, blindsided me. And I was anything but an unwilling participant.

The other reason I refuse to believe that you somehow masterfully manipulated me, is because in order for that to be true, the rest has to be false... fake... nothing but a means to get me into bed. So no, I'm not willing to say that you never actually loved me, even if it delays my healing. I'm not willing to label this whole thing a farce. Not only does that leave me feeling that I am, in fact, just as unlovable as I have always feared, but it also means that I then have to examine everything I felt and saw with my own eyes. Listen... I know my memory isn't great, but when I say you imprinted on me, I see so much of our time together in living color. It's like my time with you is etched into my very being. Our friendship wasn't an act. Our relationship wasn't fabricated. I was there. I saw it. I felt it. We were truly, madly... deeply in love. And while your actions since July 31st have torn me apart, I won't say it wasn't real. You loved me completely. And I loved you with everything I had.

But. 

Love isn't always enough, is it? I guess sometimes it might be, but in our case it isn't. We both have commitments, plans and lives that we not only wanted, but signed up for. 

We both love our husbands. They are good, good men and years ago they chose us. And we chose them. And we have spent the last many many years of our lives, choosing them despite their mistakes and their faults. And with these men, we have made beautiful lives. We've purchased houses, invested in the future, made families, and built an ecosystem we planned to survive in, because we chose them. Before our paths even had a chance to cross, we painted pictures of what our lives should look like, and then made moves to get there.  And throwing a bucket of paint on the canvas doesn't mean the picture is no longer there. Because once that wet paint drips off, the picture we made all those years ago, still exists. Those lives we built with those good men, are still there. And our commitment to them doesn't just disappear... no matter who walks into our lifes. 

Disrupting our life plans means that we put things at risk. And over the last few weeks I've been coming to terms with the fact that your risks just may outweigh mine. And this is where my empathy lives. 

There are the obvious concerns/risks that we both have. If we chose each other, we risk overwhelming, if not crippling guilt. We risk regret smacking us in the face six months, or even six years from now. We risk resentment from our kids. And we risk the mental health of both of our husbands... and what that could possibly mean for their lives. We risk judgement by those in our immediate and broader social circles. And we would likely spend much of our lives wondering what people think about us, when we enter a room. 

These are risks we both share. And there are moments when I believe our love is strong enough to overcome them. And since July 31st, I have been asking the universe why you don't feel the same way. And then this internal battle starts. On one side of the field is you believing our love could overcome anything and you choosing us. On the other side is the “you never loved me, so obviously you won't” camp.

I have tirelessly tried to solve this problem, to make it make sense. But it can't be solved, because NEITHER of those things are true. Tracy... you do NOT feel that our love could overcome anything... and you DO love me. So, where does that leave us? And then... mercifully, it all made sense. 

The bulk of your retirement is in Josh's name. You said that the return on his plan was better than yours. So you invested the bare minimum into yours, and put most of it in his. And you weren't sure what amount of that you'd be entitled to should you two split. You also had concerns about surviving in Texas without his income. Your thoughts were that you would be relegated to moving back to Indiana should he ever cheat again or leave you. These are concerns that you shared while we dreamed about hose boats in Santa Barbara and being pricks in Massachusetts. 

And then, in the midst of my rumination, I realized something else completely... there's also your parents... and your inheritance, which are very valid concerns. Given the religious world you came from, I have no doubt that Lola and Rod would never approve of us building a life together. Not only did Lola dislike me, but I'm sure her version of the Bible says that same sex marriages are an abomination. And I know for a fact it says adultery is bad. And probably divorce, too. And for "us" to work all would come into play. Our relationship would come to light. You'd have to get a divorce. And we would live a life that was “rebuked by the lord”. And when you take into consideration the tension that already exists in your relationship with your parents... from leaving the church, to moving their grandkids clear across the country??? Well, you risk being removed from the will all together. And that's a lot of security to put at risk. 

The importance of security for our mental health, can not be over stated. 

And that leaves me with a harsh reality... Love is not enough.

At first, it felt like your silence was saying that *I* was not enough. But Tracy, I was there and I experienced your love... our love... first hand. You were my everything and I was yours. So, this isn't about *me* at all. Because I KNOW I am enough. I know we could have been happy. 

But what we can't do is change the reality of the life you were born into, or the lives we have planned with these good men. And that's not anyone's fault. 

I thought this was a declaration that I had done something wrong. But no matter how I dissect our time together, I can't find that I did anything wrong when it comes to me and you. At least not something so fundamentally wrong that you, someone who admitted to having been in love with me from basically day one, would choose no contact without even a goodbye. At the risk of sounding like a broken record... you loved me. I saw it. I felt it. I experienced it. 

What I believe is that no matter how much you love me, the reality of those risks scares you. I know they do. And it's completely understandable, because they are very valid concerns. But I believe beneath that switch you built to protect yourself from pain, you're grieving just as much as me. 

I'm sure when you see a Tesla that looks like mine, your heart hurts and you internally struggle to know if you should purposefully look... or look away. You, too, are avoiding stores, restaurants, routes and parking lots that remind you of moments we spent together. And even though music has soothed your heart for your entire life, these days podcasts play through your AirPods.  I know this, because those are my exact struggles too. All of it... every last bit of it... reminds you of us and the sheer impossibility of our situation. 

It reminds us both of how unfair life truly can be.

Tracy, you're not the villain in my story. Oh, how I wish I had any communication with you at all so I could tell you that. Even snail mail and your words would offer me so much relief at this point. But for the reasons above, and others I probably haven't even considered, you feel the right decision for you, is this. Silence. Withdrawal. Heartache. And I have to accept that even if it was Josh who called all the shots for the first 24 hours of blocking me in every way possible, you've had time to consider the risks... and they aren't worth it. 

But, I won't lie. It will take years of therapy to fully convince myself that your decision to leave was situational and not personal. But that's my trauma talking and that's something for me to carry... not you. 

Our love was real. 
You are not the villain. 
And I AM enough. 

Tracy, I will carry the memory of you... of us and the love we shared, in my heart until my last breath. And if one day you reassess and the benefits from connecting with me, in even a little way, outweigh the risks, I hope you will find me. I hope you'll update me on your life. And I hope that one day I get to see your smile light up your beautiful brown eyes, as it has always done. 

But whether that happens or not, I hope you and Josh heal from this. I hope you both live long happy lives and that you spend it taking care of each other. I hope with every ounce of my being that Isaac and Evelyn live without the fear of chasing their dreams and that they find a love like ours before their future has been painted. 

As for you, my love, my hope for you is that you find a friend who can make you laugh and smile just as much as we did. I hope you overcome your struggles and that life gives you the strength to believe that you are just as special, strong, and beautiful as I know you to be. I hope you continue painting your life in color, and that you find new colors to make it more full than you could ever imagine. 

And when your heart can handle it, I hope you too, will carry the memory of us. And I hope you never forget, that I will always be here, silently cheering for you and longing to see your face again. 

This will be my last letter for a while. My last attempt to connect with you on some cosmic level, even though I know you never come here anymore. Because I believe it's about that I move you to the small corner of my heart, where you will stay until further notice. The reality is, I can't continue giving you as much space as I have been giving you. Not only does it leave no room for any attempt to make the most of the life I have been given, but the loss of you can't continue to occupy me as much as it has been. If it does, I run the risk of never healing, getting back to me, or making the most of the life I do have. Healing from the absence of your love, is painful… but it is the only way I will survive this. 

Thank you for loving me so completely and so well. Thank you for having the courage to tell me how you really felt that night in the car. I know that was scary for you, but it gave me the opportunity to know a love I couldn't have ever dreamt was possible. You, Tracy, have changed me in every way a person can be changed. Thank you for being the best friend I've ever had and for choosing me to be yours. I will miss you with every fiber of my being.

As promised, with everything I have and until my dying breath...

I will love you.
~Stef