You spent a lot of time writing that letter that you did a couple weeks back. It was raw, honest, and beautiful.

That’s all I ever wanted from you – honesty.

I didn’t say a lot that day. I didn’t know what to say. And what I did want to say didn’t matter. It was goodbye, and nothing I could say or do would change that.

So I kept my mouth shut.

Truth is, I didn’t want to say goodbye.

I watched you all week trying to gauge where you were. By Thursday night, I knew I was heading straight for an inevitable heartache all over again with you, so selfishly, I tried to say goodbye first to soften the blow.

Turns out, it still hurt like hell.

I heard someone say recently that if you feel the need to leave a relationship, ask yourself, “Do I really need to leave, or do I need relief from this situation?”

Or, as a former manager of mine not-so-eloquently put it once, “You know it’s time to move on from something when the bullshit consistently outweighs the benefits.”

For me, I just needed relief from the situation. From the not knowing. From the silence. But I didn’t need to say goodbye to you for good to get that. All I needed was to close this chapter.

Maybe my goodbye message should have been more like, “I want to try this when you’re ready. The right way.”

But I didn’t want that to add any sort of pressure to you like I was just sitting around waiting for you.

To me, there’s a difference between waiting for someone and just simply holding your heart for her when she’s ready.

Life doesn’t make sense without you. I don’t want to know a life without you in it.

And maybe that scared you.

Maybe you could feel that.

And maybe it was too much pressure.

You constantly worried about me rejecting you or you disappointing me. I could see how that built up like mom’s pressure cooker on a Sunday afternoon ready to blow chicken and dumplings all over the ceiling.

I don’t blame you for wanting relief. Given the circumstances, I don’t blame you for needing to say goodbye.

Like we talked about a week ago, that’s not how I want to love you and your son. It’s not fair to anyone, and it’s not who I want to be.

It has always taken its toll on me. It’s hard to give you the best version of me in the dark.

I want to love you openly. Honestly. Proudly. Unconditionally.

I don’t know why you put me on a pedestal (I’m nothing but your average pencil dick), but I can see how that might add to the pressure.

You constantly compared yourself to other women I’ve been with, and at times, compared yourself to where I was in my own growth.

Kicker is, I didn’t see things that way.

I didn’t see you that way.

I saw you for you, because you let me.

You put your guard down for me, you unraveled about life with me, but when it came to you and me, it went right back up. I never could understand that.

I loved you for who you are.

I always saw you as my equal. My partner. The love of my life.

The one I wanted to dance in the rain with.

The one I wanted to dance in the kitchen with.

The one I wanted to wake up next to.

The one I wanted to do life with.

The one I wanted to fight with.

The one I wanted to make up with.

The one I wanted to continue to grow with.

The one I wanted to come up behind, kiss on the cheek, and let know, “Everything is going to be all right” (but not while you’re cooking or at the sink… I’d rather not be nursing two black eyes with frozen peas and waiting for my second nut to drop again).

The one I would choose every day for the rest of my damn life.

You found reason after reason to test me. To poke and prod and find reasons we wouldn’t work. “Deal breakers,” as you called them.

But none of them scared me.

My response was always, and will always be, “We’ll figure it out.”

Rarely, did I hear reasons why we could work.

For me, we have a shared love for three fine young men.

We have a shared love for our beloved Em.

We see the world through different lenses.

We’ve grown a lot in our own ways.

We’re both driven.

We both want the best for our kids and each other.

We fight, but then seek to understand each other.

We both want to end generational cycles and do things differently than our Dads did.

We’ve been chasing each other for five and a half years.

You’re the first thought that enters my head in the morning and the last one that leaves at night.

We just get each other and our goofy sense of humor.

And honestly, we’re both hella good-looking 😉

(I will say, I’m the better winker though… you really need to work on that…).

I know you need space. I know you want to work on yourself and end old patterns and cycles. And I couldn’t be more proud of you for wanting to do just that. I know you need life to settle the fuck down. I know you need to figure you out and where to go from here, and that’s why I didn’t send this to you directly, hoping one day you’d just find it.

And if you do find this, I hope you’ll let me know in your own, little way.

You asked me to hold onto a picture for you. One you generated a month ago.

I deleted it from my phone a couple weeks back, but still have the email. I just tucked it out of sight.

I looked at it almost every day for a few weeks.

What I saw in that photo was love. Warmth. Growth. Drive. Passion. And two people absolutely obsessed with each other and their kids. Two people who set down their armor, healed their pasts, figured it out, and wrote one helluva love story.

(And not pictured, my bestie, Em, most likely behind the camera and sharing in the moment.)

Selfishly, I wanted to be by your side as you continue to find “you” and figure you out. To give you that space to do that, while I continue doing the same and chasing after my own goals.

But unconditionally, I will honor and respect your wishes to close our book for good, I won’t interfere, and I’ll wish you and that little man of yours nothing but peace, happiness and success. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

I know the last couple of times we talked, I didn’t say it, but I love you. I love your son. More than you two could ever know.

I’ll leave you with this quote from Atlas Corrigan to Lily Bloom:

“In the future… if by some miracle you ever find yourself in a position to fall in love again… fall in love with me.”

-Mr. Stark