When I was a teenager, full of angst no doubt, I often wrote letters that were never to be sent. Writing them felt like a kind of therapy, once written, I always felt a little better. Sadly I have lost all the scribblings through the years, perhaps for the better though I guess! Over the last 18 months I suppose my blog has become another way of detailing how I feel, though not everything can be written, even here, yet it has been cathartic none the less.
However, about 2 years ago, before I started this blog, before my life changed so dramatically, I did feel the need to write a 'never to be delivered' letter, and I have kept it safe ever since. When I read it I feel justified in all my actions now. As I reread it I know that there was nowhere else to go, my path was mapped out even as I wrote it, although I guess if I had sent it to it's intended recipient then things may have turned out very differently. Perhaps earlier counselling may have turned the relationship around, but in reality, it had been dead for years. To bring a dying heart back to life, surely you only have minutes, seconds even, before the blood stops pumping and the life drains away? Too long and there is no hope.
Here is the letter, nothing added, nothing taken away, I hope you don't mind me sharing, it is very personal, but this is my diary after all.
I know you don't want to 'talk'. I know you don't like confrontation, although that's not what I mean by 'talk'. However, I need to know how to plan the future. We appear to be going nowhere on auto pilot, it sucks the life out of me.
I can remember, years ago, way before children, we both said how a relationship without closeness and good sex was something we would rather be without. Well, here we are. I know you stopped finding me attractive when I was pregnant, it is understandable. I hoped that, as our children got older, we would have more time to be together, and that things may get better but it doesn't seem to have happened that way.
I have got used to not being 'wanted'. It's hard, and I cry at night sometimes when I think of it. The worst thing is that I'm only 43. I still have loads of years left- a passionless dessert. I never thought that this would be what life had planned.
And I mention all this because, all that is missing between us is part of that which is needed to give life a 'warm glow'. That warm glow seems to be so lacking in our relationship. No one to blame, but what to do?
PS. I was inspired to write this post after reading Mum plus two, who also writes letters which are never to be delivered.
Back in about a weeks time........