I wrote this last week to him … the words are still resonating. Sometimes I wonder why I treat myself the way I do.
“As you’ve rightly pointed out previously, there’s nothing to say we’d even get along were we able to actually date or whatever. But I’ll never get the chance to find out because you’re never going to leave.
“If I wanted amazing sex and that was all, sure. You’re at the top of the list. But it’s not enough for me anymore. I want real life.
I want cuddles on the lounge with the dog at our feet and something stupid on Netflix while it rains outside. It’s ridiculous how simple it sounds but devastatingly hard to find.
“But I want that and I won’t compromise anymore. And perhaps it’s really naive of me to think I will find that with anyone again but I want to try.
“Great sex is great (and with you, it’s insane) but it is never there when I’m sad or struggling. It doesn’t congratulate me on getting chosen to speak at a conference or help me change the battery on my stupidly high smoke detector.
“I believe I will be enough for someone, one day.”