An open letter to the man I accidentally fell in love with

An open letter to the man I accidentally fell in love with.

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, maybe when you realise I’m gone you’ll remember this account exists and you’ll look here. Maybe you’ll forget about it entirely and never really know the truth. I’m not sure which I’d prefer.

For three years you were my addiction. I could not get enough of you and I have a feeling that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. I loved talking to you.

When we first met there was a weird magnetism, I felt myself pulled into whatever room you were in. I just wanted to be around you.

We were always on exactly the same wavelength, our sense of humour was the same and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed at anyone so much in my life.

It was only a matter of time before we ended up in bed together. I think we both knew it. Even from those first few days working on the house, though we really tried to avoid it at the beginning.

Do you remember sitting at opposite ends of the hallway so we were apart?

We thought we could keep it at friendship and sex and we did well for a good while. Maybe we were always kidding ourselves by saying it wouldn’t be more.

I think I fell for you long before I’d dare admit it to myself.

So, where does that leave us?

You’re married. We have this mad connection but I would never ask you to choose between us and you and her. Ever. You have too much history, too much to lose. And I could never compete with what you have at home and I’m not sure I’d ever want to try.

And you can never give me the level of connection I need unless you give those things up or you’re honest with her about everything that’s happened. Even wanting that would make me feel awful.

I told you that what we’re doing could destroy your life and it could. I love you enough to know that I couldn’t live with myself if I did that to you.

I feel like it doesn’t matter what I do here, I’ll be the bad guy. If we carried on as if nothing happened, I’d be bad. If you left your family, I’d be awful. If I stopped talking to you, I’d hurt myself and you in the process.

So I’ve removed the only way you can contact me. It was one of the most upsetting things I’ve ever had to do. But I did it, for you.

Don’t doubt for a moment that I’ll be thinking about you. Our friendship has meant the absolute world to me.

They say that you can’t destroy the things meant for you, they also say that what’s meant to be will be. I trust that.

Maybe I should’ve had the nerve to say these things to you. But I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. I also didn’t want to give you the power to hurt me. I’m scared of being abandoned and I guess that doing it this way means you can’t abandon me. I know I’m a coward.

Maybe someday down the line everything will be different. Maybe we’ll bump into each other in Morrisons, or maybe you’ll see me in a pub and it’ll be like no time has past.

Or maybe this is truly the end. I really do want you to be happy, even if that means I can’t be in your life.

Goodbye.

UPDATE:

This letter was written in 2019 and I am pleased to say this man did come back into my life. Six months later I bumped into him. He had filed for divorce and we enjoyed some time together. Although we didn't work out in the end, we remain very good friends and we no longer live with the "What ifs".