I Told Him it Was Love.

Day 1

Hi My Love,

Am I supposed to continue writing this like gaggles of random strangers are reading this? The website hasn't even been crawled by google and only one person has the link. So I guess it would be pointless to keep writing as if it's not you.

I'm not even sure if you'll read this.

I'm not sure if you'll ever come back to this page. 

What I imagine is happening inside of you right now is that your wall is up. Possibly higher than it's ever been before. You've turned it off for your kids. I've successfully been banished from all forms of contact, understandably. And I'm not sure if this is for your husbands sake, or for yours. But I doubt I will hear from you for a very, very, long time... if ever at all.

And that thought shatters me. 

You should know something... I told him it was love. Not at first, admittedly. But today when he told me he just wanted to move on, that people make mistakes, etc etc... And that he wanted to move forward like it never happened, as long as I was willing to do the same....

I told him, it was love. 

It was hard to tell him. I tried my best, in as few words as possible, to tell him it didn't change the love I had for him... how I knew that hearing that would make no sense... but that this thing between us... this was different. And then I cried again... in front of him... over losing you.

How I wish I had the foresight to know how many things needed to be said before I took you home last night. I was in shock. I should have delayed returning home... pulled over, and discussed what comes next. If you were waiting for me to do that, and then I didn't... I want you to know it wasn't a conscious decision. And it's something I'll regret forever. 

We should have said goodbye. I should have pulled the hair back from your face, looked you those beautiful brown eyes, and told that I was madly... desperately... in love with you, too. Our love deserves so much more than this silence. 

Is it goodbye? I know you've said no communication.  What I don't know is who you said that for. If it's for you... then I will continue to respect that, for as long as you want me to, until I take my last breath. If its for your family... then I hope one day you'll reach out. I've made the button you see below and will ensure it's at the bottom of every blog post. It will never require logging in, and it will be anonymous. It's responses feed to an account that only I have access to.

But for now, while I wait for you to tell me you still mean all of those things we said to each other... all of the promises we made each other... I will continue writing. And if 85-year-old Tracy is finally getting around to reading this, I need you to know one thing...

I still love you.

~Me