I was inspired by another post I saw on here and thought it might be cathartic to be vulnerable and write this out. This is a letter to my past online AP.

You posted "45" on a group in Whisper and we got to talking. You initially lied about your location. We never know who we're talking to, so I will always let those sorts of things go.

As you wish, you may lie to me. I wouldn't mind.

You eventually opened up and shared that you're actually in Vancouver, the same time zone as me. Moreover, the ambiguous post "45" should have been "49", but had you not told me, I'd have never guessed that's your age based on how well you take care of yourself.

As you wish, you may open up to me. I wouldn't mind.

28 years old at the time, I had never even entertained such an age gap, and on the reverse side, you hadn't either. But our connection was solid. We both loved fitness and showing off our results. We loved traveling. We loved reflecting on stories in our youth and what we've learned since then. We both loved musicals - when "The Show Must Go On" showed various Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals mid-Covid, we watched them virtually together. I'd sneak away to chat with you, I'd wake up early to talk with you, we'd send videos throughout the day. You shared the waka poem format to me and I composed several for you, and you for me. We fantasized about meeting sometime during a work conference if Covid were under control, and all the things we could do with each other, both in private and semi-public: your favorite. You'd send me your smile and I'd melt. And despite you "competing", you'd still encourage me to channel all of this into lovemaking with my wife: I happily obliged.

As you wish, you may share your life with me. I wouldn't mind.

This went on for several happy months. One day, you shared a sex toy that you and your husband ordered. I responded with my excitement for you two, and admit to some personal excitement as well. Shortly after, that was it - my check-in messages and snaps were unread. Weeks later, I sent a final farewell, which you did read on snapchat, and that was it for us. I want to believe that you two are completely happy together. I want to believe that he repaired what you thought had been broken before and that your bond is stronger than ever. More than a year later, I want to believe I've left your mind even as you linger in mine.

As you wish, you may erase me. I wouldn't mind.