There are some things about adult life that I should have figured out by now, but that still make me feel awkward and silly. One of those things is telling an ex-boyfriend about a new relationship.
I guess it's hard because it means acknowledging feelings that I mostly pretend I don't have. The small feeling of lingering anger I still feel at you, for not being willing to take a risk for me. The feeling of wistfulness, because 'what might have been' might have been pretty good. The stupid feeling of competition: ha! I've moved on before you did, and I'm happier, to boot. The urge to rub your face in it: See, see what you're missing?
So those are there, and to be a grown up and not give in to that stupid stuff I just haven't said anything. And yet there's the part of me that wants to know you, to complete the conversion from romance, which we've left behind, past the ambiguous friendly low-key flirtation between single people who in slightly different timing or circumstances might have been something, to a clear and unambiguous friendship, without that confusing dangling potential. After all, there was so much good between us, so much common ground for a strong friendship. That foundation is more compelling than the small childish urges that come from a relationship that never fully got off the ground.
And this is what I want to tell you: I've found someone who really WILL take a risk for me.
I've found something sweet and steady, someone who makes me feel safe, and cherished, and delighted. You said something once about getting a glimpse of me, past the bravado and the modesty I project, and how nice it was to see me open up. Somehow I didn't feel all that safe doing that with you, not the way I do with him. This is what I want to tell you: the way we clicked probably wasn't so good for me. It was outward focused, achievement-oriented, outgoing and cerebral, busy, verbal, familiar. Thinking about what life might have been like if you and I had tried to be together I get a little bit exhausted. I think we would have been sprinting all the time. And instead of that, what I have is a haven, a safe place, a pause. It's inward focused, gentle, supportive. We're alike in important ways, but we're different enough that we'll both have to let go of some ideas about what we want to do and how we want to live in order to make room for the life we'll build as a couple. And that collaboration fills me with a quiet excitement.
That's what I really want to say. I've found what I was looking for, what I once imagined I saw in you. And now that I've found it I'm pretty sure you couldn't have given it to me, even if you had been brave enough to try. And so I forgive you. I forgive you for that petty hurt, the way you opened an old wound, the fragile part of me that didn't believe anyone would ever be willing to extend himself for me, the part of me that felt like I needed to be more, stronger, better before anyone could love me, that wanted to hide my loneliness and my fear. Oh, I am getting tears in my eyes thinking about how fragile we all are, and how we think we need to hide that tender spot away. Anyway, you bumped against that soft spot and it stung so I've been a little bit mad at you ever since. And I'm not, anymore.
So it would be great to catch up. I like knowing you, and I hope the bulk of our friendship is ahead of us, not behind us. But I don't know how to say this to you, without sounding petty or elaborately casual or overdramatic. I've found someone else, and he makes me really happy. I wish the same for you.
Affectionately,
Scheherazade
beautiful.
Posted by: LM | October 23, 2006 at 03:52 PM
Ex-boyfriend having moved on, probably doesn't have the time or inclination to read this. Guys tend not to dwell on past relationships. Why not just savor what you have now and forge on full speed ahead without the wistful recrimination?
Posted by: | October 23, 2006 at 05:17 PM
If everything you say is true, then you don't want to catch up. If you do, there may still be residual feelings - even if it's just a need to know that he now realizes what he lost in you. Letting go of old relationships often means letting go of the friendship that would have been. And it shouldn't matter. Only you and the lesson you learned matter. Maybe one day in the future you can find friendship with him again. But the present is for you and your new man. Don't compromise him.
Posted by: Dawn | October 23, 2006 at 08:48 PM
Excellent point Dawn.
Posted by: | October 23, 2006 at 09:00 PM
Wow! I am glad I am not the Dear [ ] at the receiving end. While there are long conciliatory notes, the distinctive melody is discord - from which I drw the same general conclusions as Dawn.
Posted by: wab | October 24, 2006 at 12:02 AM
hmmm...I'm sensing seismic undercurrents
here (something about 'protesteth too much)?
Posted by: Marci | October 24, 2006 at 10:05 AM
I don't know if you've sent this letter, or if you plan to, but I think the sentiment is an honest and well-expressed one. Some men wouldn't be able to handle a letter like this one; it would only hurt or, more likely, anger them. But if you want to send it, I don't think that should stop you; hurting him isn't your motive and there is something real to be gained. Friendships that arise from the remains of romance are often stronger, purer, and more forgiving than other friendships, and there are few enough people you will really love to give one up just because you started out loving each other in a way that didn't work.
Posted by: capella | October 24, 2006 at 10:17 AM
There's an element here of one-upsmanship. Why even write this? Have you married NBT/ isn't this a tad premature?
Posted by: | October 24, 2006 at 10:28 AM
"You said something once about getting a glimpse of me, past the bravado and the modesty I project, and how nice it was to see me open up. Somehow I didn't feel all that safe doing that with you, not the way I do with him."
Perhaps that relationship failed while this one seems to be soaring because of the change in you - your willingness to open up, and allow people in past the bravado and modesty - and not any fault of his. I'm not sure I'd take a risk on someone who wasn't willing to take a risk (opening up) on/for me.
All of that, of course, is okay. We change and grow and timing is, in fact, a key in the success and failure of so many things.
Posted by: a | October 24, 2006 at 11:35 AM
Along those lines, I could see a letter to your ex explaining how you've changed, and what you're looking for and willing to do in a relationship. And how maybe you're a bit sad or regretful that you weren't then more like you are now.
Your letter seems to place much of the blame outward, and credit the guy you're with with the changes in yourself. You didn't need him to be brave for you, you needed to be brave for yourself. And now you are. And as you move along, being brave and open, you get to choose which man gets the rewards you offer and how much you will accept in them - not the other way around. Empowering stuff.
Posted by: aLd | October 24, 2006 at 11:39 AM
Very wise post @ 11:35. I'll carry it with me.
Posted by: | October 24, 2006 at 12:27 PM
This letter falls under the heading of "why bother?" You are seeking approval from someone in your past whose opinion should no longer matter. While its tempting to go back to past friends and lovers and say "look how much I've progressed", it really doesn't matter what they think at this point, does it? YOU know how much you've progressed, and should be very proud of this. No one elses' opinion really matters here.
Posted by: | October 24, 2006 at 01:30 PM
True to form, Sherry. To whom ever this letter is intended, it is well said. I can easily see this letter going to a past-self, that it's different now, and you're 'happy'. I'm extremely excited for you.
T.
Posted by: Trevor | October 24, 2006 at 01:59 PM
I think I agree with Dawn on this - with Mr. NBT in the picture, I would not go here with []at this time. Why not use your energy on the next big thing, not the old thing? If it doesn't work out with NBT, [] may still be around anyhow.
Posted by: bill | October 24, 2006 at 02:35 PM
I think everyone on here who wrote 'not to go there' fails to get what this blog is about in this instance.
Posted by: | October 25, 2006 at 10:29 AM
10:29, I agree. I think letters-not-sent is a wonderful way of figuring out old feelings or new feelings on old events, and so on.
Posted by: a | October 25, 2006 at 02:09 PM
"There's just one little thing: a ring.I don't mean on the phone. Eartha Kitt."
http://www.slate.com/id/2150393/
Great poem on slate -- take a look.
Posted by: | October 25, 2006 at 10:59 PM
This letter shows tremendous maturity about relationships. The comments warning "don't go there" seem to assume that the feelings expressed in the letter are incompatible with your feelings for Mr. NBT. Nothing could be further from the truth, and repression isn't the answer anyway.
Whoever [] was, he obviously mattered to you, and something about him (and you with him) was obviously good and worth saving, even if imperfect. If nothing else, [] is a part of your past, and valuing what's good in the connections from your past while moving on to a connection that works much better is a sign of emotional maturity.
Posted by: Simon | October 27, 2006 at 12:32 PM
Your letter expresses, beautifully of course, the conflicting emotions that coexist in us all. But a lot of people force them out, force them to make sense, force them to be something nobler than what they are. It's a waste of time and effort. Who do you have to make sense for? Who do you have to impress? Why?
I think it's a good letter, and if he doesn't "get" it, it's because, as you already know, he has some blind spots.
Posted by: l. | October 27, 2006 at 02:30 PM
i still have feelings 4 my ex wife but have a brother hoo is gay and recently have begun to think i am gay 2, an i get 1 other girl pregnat but she not 2 good 4 me i dunno what 2 do
Posted by: Mike Paahana | June 09, 2008 at 11:32 PM