To The Man Who Could Care Less | An anonymous letter submitted to Letters to Breathe
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To The Man Who Could Care Less

Dear Ryan,

I wish you were mine. I wish you came home to me each night, and that you cooked for me, that it was your face I saw when I walked in the door. That I got to share your bed, share your life. You are all I think about. You dictate every facet of my life. Your approval, validation, praise and attention is the fuel that runs my existence. You set my mood, you determine my worth, my confidence level, my next decision and every decision after that. You define my life’s direction even though I can’t have you, or will never be loved back. Because you may love her and the kid, your bikes, hobbies and food, but you don’t love me.

You are toxic. Your words and actions are poison. You are not a good friend. You are selfish and cold. You are aloof, arrogant and calculating. You are an evil genius. You are in control of all this and always were. You know exactly how to play me and everyone else. The reader was right, you won’t ever leave her. You don’t need to. You’ve gotten all you needed from the both of us.

I used to have dignity and confidence. I used to have self-respect. I didn’t always reek of desperation. I used to be happy, and love my husband, and have interests and hobbies and enjoy things. But now I’m lost and confused. Devastated and without purpose.

I know I’m supposed to wish we never did what we did, but I don’t even have the guts to do that. If my wish came true, then I would risk losing the fantastic highs, along with the incredible lows. I know I should stop being your friend, that I should leave this place and get away from you, but although it’s so bad for me and has cost me so much, it’s still the only place I get to see you and I don’t want to lose that. I’m in pain and hurting because of you. But am too far gone to cut this cancer out of me. I’ll always love you. I’ll suffer as long as we work together. I’ll always be ready to start up again. You know this. I’m pathetic and weak. And no one will have suffered to love you like I did.

You are my ledge,
Your Dirty Little Secret


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