Dear Love,
I sent you away, but will you come home again? That is the question that hangs out there, between us, taunting me. It is unspoken, but it is there. When I ask it, if I ask it, what will you say?
Can I ask it?
Life without you is torture. Every day, someone sneaks into my bedroom and rips my heart out of my chest. Perhaps a cliche.
My life without you has been so unhappy that I fear I am not strong enough to keep living this way. This time apart has taught me that being with you is more important than being married, than buying a house, than planning for children, all the reasons that we are apart. But it leaves me with a more pressing question: if I feel that strongly about your importance in my life, how can I invite you home knowing that you don't feel the same and that this scenario may play out again in 6 months, a year, 2 years? My reaction to our separation has only confirmed to me how very much I do care about you, how I was right and pure and true in my desire to commit my life to you. The issue of our marriage is now both more important and less. I am wholly willing to give it up and wait - but at what expense?
I feel that there is no winning. Not for me, anyway.
And you. Our silence echoes. Are you as miserable as I? Or are you happy, ecstatic, liberated? Maybe this is the freedom that you have been yearning for. Maybe my misery without you is the greatest gift I could have given you. Maybe you have received clarity about what you want in life - be it me or something else.
I hope that you have. Because that clarity will be so important when, if I take that big, unspoken question out of the air and put it squarely on the table.
I love you,
Me.
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