Single, No Chaser.

Open letter to him who knows who he is. June 29, 2009

From Art.com

I’m not the type of woman who begs. Nor am I the type of woman to apologize when she knows she’s right.

I’m the type who misses you.

That’s ironic isn’t it? When I think about what happened, I’m furious. It hurts.  Then, I’m sad again.

But I want to call or write. To hear or read your funny jokes. I need to tell you so many things that have happened these past couple of months. But I can’t, my pride is bigger than my missing you.

Pride is evil, I know. But not being able to talk to you and tell you things has helped me more than you know. Although I craved your input, I’ve had to make my own decisions now. Of course when I have, I think about what you would do or say. I guess after all this time, I want you to be proud of me.

Pride definitely is evil. But in this situation, despite how much it’s hurting me, I’m right.

Which makes me wonder…how much is this silence between us hurting you? I’m sure you’ve forgotten my existence. I can’t imagine your heart as heavy as mine. I can’t imagine you sitting on your couch wondering how I’m doing.

See, it’s that realization that lets me know I made the right decision to call it quits. Doesn’t mean I miss you any less or that I don’t wish the best for you.  Because I do. I wish you all the happiness you can handle and just enough unhappiness to make you appreciate what you have.

I miss you. And I suspect I still will until I stop breathing or … until you apologize, which will probably never happen since you’re as stubborn as I am.  

Dammit! I miss you.   And now that’s enough of that.