"I know that I'll never feel anything for you again."
I suppose I've managed to fuck it up the way I always do when I have some chance at happiness.
I had a customer call me yesterday at work. He made it a point to "treat the woman in your life right or you'll end up old and alone like me someday."
I still think about you constantly but I'm sure you're off doing your best to avoid thinking of me at this point.
He's probably better for you anyway...and honestly all I want is for you to be happy. But somehow that doesn't bring my heart the peace that it should...
I wish I'd known what was in your heart before I went and fucked things up.
I dreamt of you as my wife last night...I dreamt of all three of our kids in a big house out in the country. I was blissful in my sleep but woke up feeling like I'd spent all night crying...
I wish I knew how to fix this...
But I know you'll never read this...and I'm to afraid to even ask who I am to you now. I don't want to be just another one of the guys you hang out with...but if I can't have you...if that hope something you would never again entertain...
Perhaps I should try and become better at detaching myself from my emotions.
You were always better at that...or at least at making me believe you were.
And I'm truly jealous of that and of so much more now.
I'm pretty sure I've murdered whatever bit of happiness I used to inspire in you...and I deserve to be punished appropriately.
Ignorance is no defense and I'm used to playing the criminal by now.
But I love you. I've loved you for years...and I'm so God-damn afraid that I always will.
After all...you'll never read this, I'm sure...and this is just a hint of everything I'm so afraid to say.