Hey there,

I know this has come out of the blue – I’ve never written to you before. But, you know I like writing and that it is the one way I can truly express myself. You were the first person that I showed my writing to since Uni. At the same time, I know this must seem a little weird..

We’ve tried to talk so many times. There’s you and your riddles, the glimpses you have given me of how you’ve felt and the fear you have about it. I know you and you know me. But I needed more than hints and surmises. I needed you to say it.

And then there’s me. I realise how foolish I have been all these years. The mixed messages I have given you time and time again. It must have been pretty confusing for you too.

When we spoke last summer, you said that I was the one who walked away. It hit me so hard as it hadn’t felt like that at the time but I know now it’s the truth. And yet I did it again, didn’t I? You cannot know how much I have kicked myself for that night. We were both being honest. We’d both admitted our attraction and connection. But then I panicked. I told you that we weren’t right for each other: that you needed a young, pretty woman to settle down with and I needed someone to depend on.

Oh the irony! That’s the last thing I need. I need someone who loves me, who completes me, who inspires me. I need someone whose touch I crave, whose kisses make me feel complete. That’s you. The only man I have met in 38 years who has made me feel that way. How ironic that you are now with a woman with children.

I was too scared to tell you how I feel. I still am. I guess I was protecting myself and I needed you to tell me that what you wanted was me. That I could depend on you because you felt the same way as me.

I think about you often. I regret the way I have dealt with my feelings. I analyse and over analyse our time together, the way I feel, trying to understand. But I can’t.

When I see you, it all floods back.

Last night was amazing. We all had a great time: a laugh, a joke. It’s amazing how much calmer you seem now. The way that we looked each other, I know I didn’t imagine that. But there are still games there too, like you were trying to convince yourself that we wouldn’t be good together.

You said a few weeks ago how childish you were when we first met. Why do I always hope that these are private messages to me, rather than simple observations? Like when you alluded to last year, and how ill you’d been. Were you reflecting on our intimacy together, regretting it? Or regretting how it did not continue?

And this is why I walk away. I can’t cope. I can’t cope with how much I have loved you for so long. I can’t cope with the thought that I may never meet anyone that makes me feel that way again. I can’t cope with the idea that this is all in my head.

So I’m writing to tell you that I have loved you for eight years. That I want to be with you; risk my heart and my faith on this love. Because I think we’d be amazing together: We get on well, enjoy each others’ company. We get on with each others’ families. We inspire each other.

I just needed to say this, even if nothing will change. I’ve carried this with me for eight years and I don’t know how much longer I can. Perhaps it’s better to hold on to this ‘maybe’ than the acceptance of ‘never’.

I want to live my life with you. I want the ups and downs. I want you. And I think I always will.

All my love,




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