It’s strange to think that almost everyone experiences this at some point in their life, but it is still so terribly hard.
I know you had good reasons to go, and I know you gave me fair warning. The toughest part is that I didn’t want to leave you behind, and I tried so very hard to make it work, but you were never able to forgive me for choosing to pursue both my dream and you, rather than just the latter.
Maybe I should have explained better. About my father, and the bitterness and anger he felt towards my mother, and my sister and I, for so many years, because he compromised too much, too soon and passed opportunities by. Maybe I should have told you the damage that did to my sister and I.
I don’t blame you, but I can’t be that man.
I know I made some big mistakes, and I asked for a lot of faith. But I loved you and tried to show you that I believed in you as a person, and a professional, and a woman, and a human being.
Someday – when you’re alone, or when your husband is distant – you’ll walk outside and listen to the wind in the trees or the sound of a far off car crunching on the gravel.
I hope that somewhere in the long unbroken stream of days before you take that walk, you learn that it’s not enough to care for someone, if you won’t allow them to be their best self.
I think this might be for me.
If you’d like to talk, I’m open to having a conversation just to clear the air.