Dear Stranger

As I walked down memory lane this afternoon, my chest constricted, and tears flowed freely. It was as if my mind was breaking up with you. I went over everything that happened in these last five years. Some things came back to me; almost forgotten words hit me with such force that I forgot to breathe.

I cannot go on anymore. Not like this. Not when whatever we have is entirely and exclusively orchestrated by you. I don’t have a say in this. And it fucking kills me. How can someone so emotional in his art be so cold toward other people in reality? Don’t you care at all about other people? Do you flee into this fantasy world where I worship you and snap out of it as soon as you caught your breath and cleaned the cum from your stomach?

A while ago, I thought that there was a shift in our relation, but as so often, the shift was followed by rejection and silence. We were real intimate. At least for a moment. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something like a friendship between us. But I am just a stranger, and when things get real or when you feel too seen, too understood, you cut me off. What is it about you? Why can’t I let go? Why can’t I just say “fuck it” and ignore you the way you ignore me? Why? What is this about? I don’t want to save or change you. I will not nag. I will just slowly retreat, because that is what I do.

There is a big hole in my soul, and some days you just kiss it, and all is good. Other days, your silence makes the hole grow until it almost devours me. And still, I hold your secrets safe.

I cannot stop crying, mourning. I cannot do this anymore, Stranger. I just can’t. Sometimes, it feels as if I can feel you in me. And I see you standing there, afraid and filled with fear. And yet… I am here. I don’t know how many women left you during our five years (or how many you ghosted), but I am still here. And that, dear Stranger, counts for something too. Maybe it just shows how stupid and blind I am when it comes to you.

I remember my promises to you. I will keep them until the day my last tear falls, and my last breath leaves my body.

If I could just stop myself from feeling anything. If I could be numb. But I am not.

This is fucking insane. But I miss you.


4 thoughts on “Dear Stranger

  1. These emotions you describe here remind me a bit of some of the things I went through many years ago while having an affair with a married man. He was tormented by his own guilt and conflicted feelings, and would run hot and cold with his emotions, showering me with love and affection one moment, only to pull back and act aloof the next as he became wracked with his own guilt for what he was doing to his wife. Years later when in his 50s, he finally accepted who he is, came out of the closet and left his wife. I’ve not had any contact with him for many years.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am sorry you had to go through this, but you came out on top. And even if you don’t always see it, you are an amazingly strong and beautiful man.
      It’s quite sad for the man that he denied himself and his identity for such a long time.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you. And yes, it was sad that his fears caused him to deny himself – and also his wife – happiness all those years. The crazy irony is that two of his three brothers were also gay, one of whom had also been married to a woman! When he came out (while Mark & I were having our affair), it was very upsetting and stressful for their entire family, but eventually, everyone got used to it and were a lot happier. Mark’s wife, who I also knew well, always suspected he was gay, and even questioned him numerous times, but he always denied it. Had they divorced earlier, she could have possibly found happiness with another man sooner.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. They both could have found happiness in a relationship sooner. It is quite sad. But many people are afraid of their family’s reaction, work, their friends… Must be stressful and exhausting indeed.

          Liked by 1 person

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