Average Jane

An Open Letter to The Man I Think I Love

38,000 ft

A. –

I’ve never written a love letter and I don’t suppose I’ll start now, but on the off chance you do receive this, be assured every word is true. I don’t regret one moment of our time together a lifetime ago, or the millions of moments between then and now. We were an impossibility at an impossible time. We were kids across an ocean. Until a few days ago, I had even forgotten the story of how we met and yet that story is hauntingly telling all these years later – strangers yet so familiar that it seemed natural, easy. It makes sense that those hours slipped through my memory as though I’d always known you. Nothing salient. Nothing extraordinary. Just two people in a bar as always; friends together as it should have been. But we didn’t know each other and I understand that now.

Eight years ago you made me feel more amazing than I’d ever felt. You made me feel cared for — you and your family — cared for and loved. Sisters and daughters of sisters. Parents and pets. Slippers and nightgowns and Christmas turkey. More joy than one person deserves. And it was precious to me. And it was because of you and it was never forgotten.

When I asked to see you now, after all this time, I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect the love and care and joy. The parents and pets and sisters and daughters of sisters. How blessed am I that it was all still there waiting for me, slippers and all. I didn’t expect to see you, the old you. The you that felt like an old glove, comfortable and warm. The you I felt I knew the moment we met. The you that filled me with hope. I didn’t expect to feel a thing. I wish I hadn’t.  But I did.

You summed it up, though – “We have moved on.” We needed to. I didn’t even know there had been something to move on from until I turned around and saw everything we’d passed through and left behind.

You are overflowing with love. Those that get to be a part of your every day life are so lucky and I ran away again. I had to and know that and it is for the best that I did. We are much an impossibility now as we were then but the “what ifs” may always haunt me. Will always. You have given me a gift, though. I know there is love. I know I can love. Because I love you. Not the idea of you. Not the impossibility of you. But you and how you make me feel.

I won’t be waiting for you – don’t worry about that. “We have moved on.” As you said, we finally had a proper goodbye and that is truly the best gift of all.

Be well, and thank you.




Trackbacks & Pingbacks


  1. * Catherine says:

    This is very beautiful. Makes me sad to think that you won’t be with this person, but I understand that is just how it is sometimes.

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 7 months ago
    • * Average Jane says:

      This guy, the one I wrote the letter for, he wrote me other day. Apologized for going MIA after my visit. Told me he has “a lot of people to consider” and I told him I shouldn’t be one of them. I was a blip on the radar a long time ago. I’ll miss him, but I know I am somewhere in his heart.

      | Reply Posted 7 years, 6 months ago
  2. * chris l says:

    There is not much more sad than knowing that you want something, but you cannot have it.

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 7 months ago
    • * Average Jane says:

      There is having something you thought you wanted and realizing it was never meant to be. I can only hold on to the hope that this was all meant to be this way.

      | Reply Posted 7 years, 6 months ago
  3. * Emily says:

    Beautifully written.

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 7 months ago

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