Laundry

25 Oct

October 23, 2011

Dear HB,

I was doing laundry tonight at my apartment, and realized the last time I had done it here and not at my parents’ house was with you. It seems an odd thing to bring you to mind, doing laundry, I didn’t even let you help, so I have to ask myself why it made me miss you so much. Laundry. I’m laughing at myself now, but I literally had to stop and take a deep breath. I wanted to call you, and just hear your voice, but its Sunday night and I’m pretty sure you are out of work, and even more sure that if you are, you are with her.

I know I can’t contact you directly, so I got the brilliant idea to write to you, and put it out into the universe, hoping that maybe, just maybe you’ll read this and realize you miss me too. I haven’t written letters I had no intentions of sending since Mr. Wrong and I broke up, so the fact I feel the need to do it again is worrisome. It makes me wonder why I ever needed to give you up. Not to say how I was feeling wasn’t valid, or that I was in love, or  even that the fact you were wasn’t terrifying, but all you were asking for (in theory) was time. Was my time really so precious I couldn’t give you a fraction of it?

Alas, this is where we are. You are with her and I am…dealing. I know the most likely scenario is that I will write you a dozen letters, you’ll never read them, and I will eventually move on, but I need to do it. I need to hope that you’ll stumble upon one of them and miss me enough to call, or that one day you will break up with her and I’ll have some sort of record to show you  I wasn’t lying when I told you I cared. I do miss you, and there’s not a day that goes by I don’t think of you. All I want is for you to be happy, however, and if that is a life without me, then so be it. I’ll come to accept that. For now, don’t judge me too much for almost driving up your street sometimes one my way to work, or for craning my neck to see if you are driving the Ford truck in front of me.

All the Best,

PR

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