Dearest
An open letter to who broke me. My one and only.
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It took a great deal of sleepless nights and tears to reach out like this. I love you. I really do. The moment we met, I saw the light in your eyes, and I knew that one day you would be my wife.
I was wrong. Certainly, we had some of the greatest nights of passion we had ever known. You told me as much. Remember that night? You said you’d never had a climax with only penetration. I told you that it was never about my size. It was about the intimacy and love we shared.
You smirked and looked away. When I took your face in my hand, your smirk left, and you were frowning. You said you thought you really did love me, but you were having mixed emotions. You never said why, but I knew. I knew.
I had pushed you away, and I had gotten too needy. I promised things I had no business promising, but in the throes of passion, people lie.
Is it lying, though, if you truly mean them in your heart?
I honestly can’t get you out of my head. I smell you still on my guest pillow. It’s been months. I’ve washed the linens several times since then. It is psychological, surely. Is it? After the first month of no…