I wish I had the courage to fight for you, but I know I can never win. I want to have this fight for you, but I know I’ll end up on the losing side. I am not a fighter, you know god damn well that I am a runner, but I want this fight with you, even though I’ll end in defeat. I need closure, even if it’s painful. I’m exploding inside, with sadness and anger and hurt and love and confusion and despair and hopelessness. I want to have this fucking fight please. The one we never had. Because you left, without explanation. Disappeared without a trace after we evolved to this new place of making future plans. You don’t do that to people. You never fucking abandon people. Come back here please and fucking tell me what happened, tell me what I need to do to be better, tell me the truth, all of the truth. Don’t leave out anything for the sake of protecting me? You resigned from the responsibility of protecting me the day you left.

I want you back so fucking badly. I want to please you and I want you to come back here and fucking take care of me the way you promised me you would. I want you back in my life so much so that I’ve allowed myself to accept this painful transition from sexually intimate partners within an intense BDSM Dynamic to… just friends. Because if I’ll never even make it to the battle field…. I’ll concede here in no man’s land where you left me.

Unknown territory. So much room for accidents and mistakes and I’ve already slipped up out of natural response to how I would’ve previously engaged with you 2 months ago, naked in your house. Instead of making it awkward, you skipped on over it and continued in conversation. I don’t want to fuck up again when I still don’t know what I did wrong to begin with. Please be patient with me.

I think we both recognize the difficulty of this new line of separation between us. The dead air I’m struggling to fill. I’m not so sure it can be done platonically, but fuck am I willing to try if it means having you in my life at all.

Even though I made it a priority to ensure you knew what you meant to me, I will truly never be able to express what you mean to me. What you taught me. What you provided me. What you inspired in me. What you healed within me. That parts of me born of you. I am so fucking madly in love with you, but. I know that you don’t feel the same. You would have told me, when I poured my heart out to you, then.

Please be patient with me. I’m trying to hard to navigate through the pain you inflicted when you left, the hurt from how much I miss you anyways, the fiery love I’m trying to throw water on, my former natural responses to your bratty and funny jabs, and the dead air I’m trying to fill with new forms of conversation. Less sexually charged, less intimate and vulnerable, less personal sides of our lives. It’s is not an easy transition for me. I need your help and guidance once again here.

I just hope you know that I will always love you, and I will always be right fucking here. Until we meet again someday. Maybe.. Hopefully…