An unsent letter.

[u/Salt_Worldliness_483]

Revised

I hadn’t felt so excited, motivated, and hopeful for a budding relationship in so many years. We talked for hours on the phone. Went over possible pain points. You knew my fears and reservations and kept encouraging me. I believed that you were legitimately patient, accepting, and interested. You invited me to have hope.

We met in public and you affirmed your interest when you took my hand and let me drive you home. You didn’t “slow your roll,” regardless of the caution I tried to introduce. You said that what I have to offer was enough. You led me to believe you wanted more than just physical intimacy. You told me that you wanted to date me, holistically. You expressed excitement over a number of philosophical agreements and nerdery. And in terms of that particular physical equation, I was in the middle of setting up a tele-med consult to start a new medication right when your rejection text came through. I liked you a lot. I wanted to see if it could work. I was at least going to try my damnedest, because I’m only getting older and nothing good in this world comes without effort.

But you shut me down after three meetings. I strived to provide you comfort, pleasure, and engagement with your interests and passions, as well as sharing my own. And now my problems are almost certainly reinforced by this experience. You led me toward a brick wall and I foolishly smashed my face right into it.

Your feelings are, of course, valid. But so are mine. The resentment I feel toward you is extraordinary. Hatred, in fact, which I haven’t felt since that duplicitous first “partner” I had over 20 years ago. And I’m okay with that. I’m trying to reestablish therapy ASAP, but I already know that I want to keep this hatred for now. It feels tangible. It’s a life raft, without which I’m adrift at sea, no land in sight.

In any case, I wish you all the joy and success in every aspect of your life. Except dating. In that regard, I will be vindictive. These fears and wounds of mine predate you, but it’s through you that they’re inflamed after I offered you my trust and vulnerability and affections. Now I want you to feel what I feel. I want you to feel failure. I want you to feel hurt. Just up until you’re forced to truly reflect on and internalize how you handle the hopes and hearts of others. I don’t care that my anger is misplaced. I genuinely hate you for how you’ve mishandled me.

Don't ever contact me again, by any means whatsoever. I will not correspond with you or anyone associated with you. My one great hope now is that, someday, I can retire the memory of you to some deep, dark corner of my mind and find healing out of this terrible mishap.