(You know what day it is, 2024.)
So, I don’t see you anymore. I presume I will never see you again.
I’m very sad, because it would have been possible for us to at least be friends. Sort of.
What happened: I asked you what prompted you to reach out to me at the time you did, and you popped off at me. I guess what I sent in response could have been interpreted as me “yelling” at you. I basically sent you that as a statement of fact. If I interpreted you wrong, then I did, and I’m sorry. But, looking at your view pattern over the years, it could be interpreted more than one way. I look back over my notes, and I don’t think I can be blamed for interpreting it the way I did.
I get it, you’re staying home. You did the right thing and chose your family. That’s what 99.999999999% of you do in this situation. I don’t blame you.
As such, I don’t think emailing the way we were would have been appropriate. You want to stay home. Okay. Well, that sort of emailing about all kinds of stuff is the kind of companionate function your wife is supposed to fill. Since you’re staying home, I’m not supposed to fill that space. People try to “outsource,” but you really can’t do that. It doesn’t work.
That doesn’t mean we could never, EVER speak. I’d like to know how you are. I’d like to know what’s going on with you. If you were ever sick or hurt, I think I’d like to know. I will always feel attached to you, and I care for you very much.
I don’t think it would be appropriate to speak more than once or twice a year. We aren’t going to be anything to each other. That’s over by your choice, and I respect that.
But, we’re getting old. Who knows how long either of us will even be here? I hate to lose track of you forever. I hate for you to think I’m angry or I hate or dislike you. I hate for you to think there’s ill will. I’m pretty sure I understand what happened and why it happened, and it’s all okay. I’m putting it in the past and moving on with my life. I wish I had been able to make this clear, but I couldn’t. You were gone. You decided never to speak to me again. I wouldn’t have made that choice, but when you decide to shut down and not talk, as one does, then there’s just assumptions and no truth.
You’ve been a special person to me for twenty-five years, do you know that? And I can’t even wish you a happy birthday.
This seems to be by your choice, and I will always respect your choice. When I see a person quit speaking, that behavior says to me, “Leave me alone.”
So, okay. I’m leaving you alone. It’s what you seem to want. I wish for you everything good, and I understand you are doing what you want to do with your life, and I will never argue with that.
Please know that I bear you only goodwill, I’m sorry things ended the way they did, and I will always think of you and hope the best for you.
I guess this is it, then.
Happy birthday. Take care. Goodbye.