Dear Sir

Good morning. I'm watching the counter tick higher again. You responded when you didn't need to. I don't think you're here, or at least I hope your not. And even if you were this is my alt.

Sorry for the message this morning. It was an accident. I reached for my phone to look for my morning message. I guess I accidentally hit the button. That habit is gonna be a hard one to break; the barely conscious habit of trying to say goodnight when it came in.

This is turning out to be both harder and easier than I expected. And some revelations have occurred. Those make it easier.

I'm glad it's over now. Before my heart got too involved. I realized you didn't ever really let me in. You never really shared your inner world, all the while expecting me to share mine. And be my most vulnerable self with you. That ache of feeling so excluded and compartmentalized is dissipating. Leaving a sore spot. You made a lot of mistakes, and were far from perfect. I tried so hard to be tolerant and accepting and flexible. In the end it wasn't enough.

I miss you though. I miss our conversation, I miss our connection, I miss our play. And I really wish your follow through had been better. It's like I lost out. We never did do what we were supposed to. No scenes, barely any calls. I wish you had felt the same. Or close to it. Some sort of attachment. I'm trying to convince myself that you don't really noticed my absence. I wasn't the priority of your day like you were mine. Undoing it all is hard. But I'll get through it. I always do. I'm a big girl and can and always have taken care of myself.

Im not gonna say this is the last letter I write to you but I don't want to dwell. I don't want to feed the voice in my brain telling me once again I'm not worth it. So I won't.

Goodbye my sweet Sir

I'll sit at your feet one last time, with the familiar jingle in our ears. Big eyes looking up at you, pupils wide.

Doe