I know this will past but the past few days were suffocating. At times I wish I could talk with you... i want to barter with you. Beg and promise that I wouldn't say as much now... I've learned my lesson. I know now when a broken record must get trashed.

I'm not mad at you like you're mad at me. Why didn't you just tell me? I wouldn't have loved you any less. My initial reaction was hurt. But I was already hurting. I already knew our paths were interrupted. Like unreliable WiFi. As soon as that test rang positive, I felt the shift. None of this is written with ill intent. Curiosity for sure. A desire to understand? Definitely. But I know the ol' horse has been beat. Why do I need to know? I guess I don't need to know. I just wish you had told me. Trusted in me like I trusted you. Letting you down was never my intention.

I often go back to the first 2/25 and read. "never" and "never" and I know this is the real you. I know this. In my deep soul. I know. Seeing that article made my heart sink. My anxiety soared. Your past is only your past. It doesn't define you. Don't you remember mine? You accused me of things that had no bearing of truth. Were you just trying to make the baby go away? Make me go away? Were you trying to hurt me? Did I get too close? I talked too much. I am now. I hardly talk at all anymore, for what it's worth. But I'm not proving that here. But you'll never read this and there's not enough detail for anyone else to know what happened... so why am I worried? It's okay, right? The slum of humanity, the people on social media, are the people I shared with. What will the slum do with this partial information? Nothing. They will allow me to share my aching heart in a way I can't even share to someone I pay 180/hour to. It's not your job to offer me reassurance or safety. And it was unfair of me to expect that. I'm so deeply sorry for expecting more than I gave.

I leave you alone. Out of respect, I would have. I didn't need the fear. Or the threats. I told you things about my past I've never told a single person. I am insanely ashamed of this now. Because you didn't return that same level of trust and in a way I feel broken. I feel... splintered at the soul. What's the word for that? Sometimes, when I think about how you spoke about her, I wonder if you don't speak of me the same. Do you laugh at my hurt? Do you roll your eyes? Do you shake your head in good riddance? If you read this, would you feel disgusted with me? It bothers me that I still care how you think of me. I'm also deathly afraid of what you think of me. I don't know if my heart can take another blow. I've lost more than you know since then.

I'm angry at myself. Which is conflicting in itself. I ask why I trusted so deeply. Why did I fall so soundly? Why did I allow myself to be so vulnerable? Why did I think it was safe to talk so openly? I haven't dated since 2011. Being with you made my defenses sink. I wish I had a trial run before the real thing. Maybe I wouldn't have messed up so badly.

Oh, Buns... Always taking it too far. I should have stayed quieter. I've thrown myself into work, hobbies, self development, the kids. I don't allow myself much downtime unless I'm stuck in a game or reading a book. I can't stay idle anymore. I work out until the point of exhaustion. Which isn't hard. Ha. I think about the things you said to really tear me down. I said a couple mean things to you, but you held nothing back. You made sure I knew that I was trash, I was scum, I was nothing. Your words had a special venom to them. A barb I hadn't expected, but you told me about it.

And then you hoped I would live happily. You tore what you built in me, leaving me lower than before. Then sent a single paragraph text that reminded me of the old you. The one I knew. You still made sure I didn't keep a morsel of self confidence. I imagine you thought, " if i helped build it, it's coming with me."

I tried to do the right thing. And you hit me where it hurts. Did you do that intentionally? Knowing what they did? Did you know it would scare me? Or were you truly looking out for you? I can understand both ways and I guess it doesn't matter. I still love you and I miss you... even as a friend.

I tried talking to someone. But my bones hurt. And my insides flailed her shaking limbs. It was too much work. I thought, maybe I could share with someone else? Maybe the little things? Maybe I could practice. Maybe I can do this. But the words felt like too much and the silence wanted only you. So I removed myself from the conversation.

I share a picture and men only want to see what they want to see. They don't see my soul or feel my essence like you did. I'm not interested in how cute I am in a shitty picture that I've mastered at angling the correct way. I don't filter anymore because you were right... the shitty filters are just an exterior view of my crappy insides. But my eyes no longer shine and my skin is dull. It's not your fault. But the bar has been set. And I failed.

I take a lot of pride in being a good mom. It mattered what you thought. I put so much weight into your thoughts. Although I have faults, I show up everyday and I work hard for them. I meet their needs on nearly every level imaginable. But you had to zone in and attack that too. There's not a day that I wished you had just said, "I'm not interested in being a father to your child and I definitely don't want to be around you." Instead of the threats. But it was your child too... were you really going to take them? Did you really not see a way we could have made it work somehow?

They are gone now. I didn't abort, but I planned to. The earth reclaimed them as her own. I felt relief and guilt a million times over. All I have is proof. Sad proof in the sense of documentation, an ultrasound image, and blood tests. Sneak Peek allows you to find out gender at 6 weeks. I purchased that kit and I was on my way to FedEx the last day we texted. I found out the results 3 days later. You were the only one I wanted to share it with. But you had explicitly said no. That bit pretty hard.

I'm scared of you at times, but I try to remind myself that you are no monster. I knew you. Maybe there's some fear in leaving you alone. Some fear in talking about how I feel. I feel like you've initiated a gag order. And being scared of you... it's a confusing scared. Because just 3 months ago today I was in your arms. And now I'm only allowed to tip toe and I need to stay careful. I still remember the man I loved. It doesn't align. It's hard for me to adjust, but I'm trying. I'm trying so freaking hard. Somedays I'll find myself staying at my black screen and wishing it would light up with your message. I'm trying. So hard. I'm begging a hollow tomb to make it make sense and the uncertainties only echo back at me.

I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I wrote things on Reddit. I wish I had done so many things differently and been a better person. Not only for you, but for me... and for us. I can't change your perception of me, and I'll take it like a tap to the chin. Brush the dirt off and get back up even if it hurts. But it doesn't help you to heal. I realized, the only way I can help you to heal is by honoring your wishes and staying quiet. And that's what I'm trying to do. But it doesn't make me love you less and it doesn't make me miss you less. It's selfish to say those things, and selfless to never tell you. I need to be selfless now. I want you to be happy.

I had to change my appointment and I plan on going to the last place I held you that day. I have to let it go there. It seems dramatic, but it's the right thing to do. Maybe it'll help heal the void. I'm not sure if it will. But I thought... if I spend the evening there maybe some of the pain will escape with the winds on water street. (This isn't identifying... I googled and there are millions of water streets all over the world. I promise.) but maybe an afternoon/evening there will help my pain subside just slightly? Help my brain process the end. It's a special place... our personal secret garden.

I miss you with every tingling atom in my body. Every skittering zing skating under the first layer of dermis. My body could light up a bazillion times at the thought of you; the nerve endings coming alive to tell their own stories.

I hope healing comes soon if it hasn't already. You deserve the world and so much more. ❤️🐰-slbb