Open Letter to my Ex. (AKA Mr. Big)

B:

What's worse: knowing you should have married someone else, or knowing and not doing anything about it?

You always knew me for the coward I was. You probably even now despise me for it. Pity me and the life we should have had together, but now is bland and boring because it's not with you. If I told you just how bad the sex was, you'd probably chuckle in that harsh-but-not-really-mean way and try to goad me into phone sex, just to see if you could.

And let me tell you right now: you could.

One of the letters I couldn't stop myself from reading had a phrase in it about people envying us in a few decades, wanting what we have. Seeing us together and knowing how good we are for each other.

I had to stop reading because it really made me miserable, knowing what I fucked up. I can't even bring myself to throw away the mix tapes you made for me, but they're coming alont to the new house.

My husband would never think to make a mix tape for me. To call me up just to tell me something he heard on the radio. To tell me, in explicit and tantalizing detail, just how he plans to kiss me until I beg him for sex. And mean it. To listen to me while I tell him about my day. To read my writing and not only critique it, but add a little something to it that hadn't occured to me.

We were friends, you and I. And even in our awful shortcomings (both of us greedy, both of us mean when we didn't have to be, both of us sometimes shallow), we WERE good together. God, we were good. You knew me. You understood me.

I'll never have that again. Of all the things I miss about you, the things I mostly can't remember now until it's dark and I'm alone and feeling just how old I am and how little time has passed although it seems like ages, your understanding and knowledge of me -- that fit -- is what I'll miss most.

I can't ever send you this; you already think I'm pathetic. You and your current girlfriend (who is probably slender and brunette, and doesn't have any of the stupid hangups I did) probably laugh at me at every stupid attempt of mine to reconnect with you. I don't blame you -- it is stupid. I just can't help it. I know i've left something invaluable behind.

I'm sorry. I'll always be sorry. I'll always regret letting you go. You probably already know this. You're smart enough and know me well enough to know my 'hi' emails are just lameass excuses to correspond with you because I'm so sick with myself for letting it happen.

But happen it did. I'm so sorry.

I hope this finds you well. I hope you're happy and content. I hope the woman you're with deserves you more than I did, and treats you far better.

Best,

Regenia