I’m sorry it’s Sunday again and you’re alone. I know you thought we’d spend every Sunday together. I know how much you loved our Sundays together—even if we weren’t right next to each other. I know you loved being together in MY house. Yeah, I’m sorry about that too. It was always my house. You were just a visitor here. As much as you tried to make it a home for US, it was never your home. I invited you there on occasion, but you were never to be a permanent fixture. You were welcome to make home there every now and then—especially on Sundays. You were welcome to cook, clean and do laundry, and be my personal sex goddess—I especially loved that.
You were good to me. I know that. I’m sorry I didn’t accept you in the same way you accepted me.
I know I said I wanted to build a life with you. I did. In the beginning. Then things got real. Too real. You were too much. You were too honest. You wanted me. You wanted me in a way I’d never been wanted before. You wanted ALL of me. Not just the parts of me I was willing to give. Not just scraps. You wanted the scary bits too. You wanted the bits I hadn’t shared with anyone. The bits I hadn’t even shared with myself. I wasn’t honest. I especially wasn’t honest with myself. I played it off like you wanted my money or you wanted my business. But that wasn’t true at all. You didn’t give a shit about those things.
You wanted my heart. You wanted my mind. Most importantly, you wanted my time. It was easy to give money, much harder to give time. Even harder to give my words.
I tired. Especially in the beginning. I tried even harder when you left—until you came back. Every time I had you, I quit. I don’t know why.
I guess I just didn’t think I should have to work at it anymore. I think love should be easy. It shouldn’t be work. We shouldn’t have to talk all the time. It should be natural. We should “take it as it comes.” I’m sorry you don’t agree.
I’m sorry I let my family influence me and get in the way of our relationship. I took their concerns to heart and made them mine instead of evaluating and deflecting what I may not have agreed with. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you when my mom said all those nasty things to you and put words in my mouth. I’m sorry I let my son talk to you the way he did and ignore you when you were in our home.
I don’t want to have this kind of power over you. I never did. I only wanted you when I couldn’t have you. You deserve someone who wants all of you in the way you wanted me.
It was flattering, albeit frightening nonetheless.
I did love you. I still do. I always will. Just not the way you needed me to.
I wish for you the greatest success, but most importantly, the deepest love.
I wish for you the kind of love you give. The kind of love you ARE.
You deserve it more than you know. You deserve it far more than you give yourself credit for.