When I was 18, I met the perfect man. But I was too young and dumb to appreciate him. Now, several mistakes and 2 marriages later, I wonder where he is, how he’s doing. I heard his baby brother died a couple of years ago, and just wanted to hold him, because I know he’s hurting.
If you ever read this, know that I think of you often. Always with love. You were there for me when I really, really, needed someone. You saved me from who knows what hell and allowed me to leave when I wanted to. You once said you believed that we’d get together again one day. You later told me you’d cheated on me, with a random stranger you picked up in a pub, because you thought I was sleeping around. I never told you you were right. I was never faithful to you for longer than a few months. So we’re not meant to be, but we were meant to be then. Thank you. Be happy.