A letter he will never read

Dear redacted,

I want to be mad at you, but I'm not. I want to tell you that I hate you, but I don't. All I'm left with is a yearning for your presence and deep desire for your happiness. Both are hard to reconcile considering I've never felt either before with anyone but you. We've been through this once before and this time is different. I didn't come running after you. In fact, I stood in the middle of on coming traffic hoping that someone would swerve. I paused.. I stopped in my tracks. I've been here collecting dust for a while now. How have you been coping?

This time I'm not going to look for you in strangers on the street. I'm not going to see you in the hopeful eyes of my first date. I'm not going to roll over in the morning and wish it was your hand brushing my hair off my cheek. "Baby I'm Yours" won't be added to the playlist queue as if to answer "R U Mine?" when I listen to the Arctic Monkeys. FUCK. Do you see how I've softened? Do you see how your existence transformed me?

I digress, you said you want unconditional love and loyalty. You have it. The issue is that peering through the darkness into someone's true self is never easy. One can promise the world, but trust is never guaranteed. I suppose it's fitting that I'm the one who will hold this unconditional feeling for you until my last breath. I truly hope that the universe allows you to let it go if that's what you need. If there's ever a day when you want to come home, you know how to find my heart.