You tattooed my name on your arm. You tattooed my thigh in my old apartment, the first one you knew me in. The first place where we kissed under the stairs. You told me you loved me, and I believed it. I meant it when I told you I loved you back. I didn’t love you the way you deserved though, and ultimately I don’t think what we had was good for either of us. I think I owe you at least several apologies. We were both really sick back then. I hope you’re doing better now. I hope you feel safe and loved. I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight. Honestly I never stopped thinking about you though. I mean not constantly or anything, but you’ve always popped into my head at least a few times a year. You left a mark on me. I just wonder how you’re doing and I’m curious about your life and I reflect on the time we shared. I have a lot of regrets and think about my mistakes and the choices I made and I let that inform my desire to make better choices now. I think about how much I’ve grown since then and wonder how you’ve grown too. I’ve always missed you. Not in the way that I’ve thought it would make sense for us to see each other again, but despite what I look back and see as problems now, I do miss the tenderness, the care, and the romance. I miss talking to you and holding you and kissing you and texting you. Sure the other stuff was fun but mostly I miss the intimacy. I miss the seemingly very mutual desire we shared for each other. I miss the way you made me feel and the way I wanted to make you feel good. I probably failed at that a lot. You made me feel wanted. Thank you for that. I changed my name. I’m a girl again now, the way I was before you met me. I guess I never stopped being a girl, I was just hiding from it. I was sober for nearly a decade. I’m not any more but I finally have a good handle on it now, fortunately. That friend group was so toxic. I surround myself with people who really care about each other now and aren’t just fake clout chasing assholes (I was one too, anyway). I went to treatment for my ED too. It’s easier now. I’m sorry it’s always been so fucking hard for you. I hope you’re in a good place with that. I never buried you in the back yard like we talked about, but you do still feel like a ghost that haunts me. It’s not scary. It’s sad sometimes, comforting other times. I don’t know if you’ll see this but I felt the need to send it. You’ll always have a piece of my heart. I don’t give it out lightly, and when I hand it over, I mean it.
I’m so glad to hear from you. If you ever end up seeing this and you still want to talk, my email is puppycemetery@gmail.com I don’t want to post my phone number on here. I don’t know how long ago you sent this message, but I’m glad I found it. I hope I’ll hear from you.
