Letter to My Mistress

Has there ever been a letter that you wished that you had sent to someone? An apology, a confession, a secret? This is a collection of letters that have regretfully never been sent.

Dear friend,

Sometimes, I wonder if what has transpired between us was all for the greater good, or if it was just a detour we both took from our true destination. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I feel like either way, I have learned more, even if it means my heart will ache more. Like many things I have gotten caught up in, I didn’t mean for this to happen. Yet, it did.

I wish that it had been easier for me to say no. I wish that you had not found something pleasing in the way I carried myself and approached you. It would have been better if you and I had stayed brother and sister, student and mentor, and been the close friends that I aspired us to be. I wish I had the skill to tell you that day that my heart was wrapped around another dream, and that I had already decided not to call you into the messy world of my romantic life. It did not matter that I was growing fonder of you, nor did it matter that I had proof that you were feeling the same; what mattered was my sanity and proving that I could have meaningful relations without relations. So much for that – I indefinitely failed you and myself.

For when you came to me, expressing your desires, you ignited a flame that I tried my best to snuff out. I saw all the warning signs, and I knew that if I didn’t dismiss this quickly, the lust would take over and I would be lost to it. And poor, unsuspecting, unknowing you served yourself upon a platter to me. You told me, I can be that friend, and that friend was more than a friend. You wanted me to use you – for us to mutually use each other. Fall into the abyss of sin and let us feel comfort in each other’s touches, kisses, and sighs. With all the resistance I put against it, I gave in. I made you my mistress.

You were wonderfully lush and captivating. So long had I longed to be touched as you touched me, and here I was, breaking the rules to get what I pleased. It was so easy, so satisfying – moreover electrifying – having your company at my discretion. It was the ultimate cheat; to receive the pleasure of a relationship without the commitment – all the cake without the calories. In the time we shared, however, things changed. Or more likely, things began to surface. No matter how you had phrased this proposal from the beginning, your heart had desired something greater and more meaningful that what we were having. You said things to me that made me realize this at last – you had always hoped that I would fall for you, and then we would fall with each other.

And the problem was, while you jumped off the bridge, I had already long ago secured myself to its side.

There would be no falling here. Not because you and I were incompatible. I am sure that we would have made a beautiful couple. I’m sure you would have made me feel loved and secure, and that I would have worked to make you feel the same. It is not for the lack of affection for you that I was not able to take that leap. My mind had been set from the very beginning – no matter what happened here, you and I were made to be friends, and falling would do nothing but leave us shattered across the ground. While you wrapped your heart around the hope of us, my heart was already wrapped around the hope of another, and honey, my heart just isn’t that elastic.

I know that it’s probably far too late for me to say this, but I still wish to make it known. I wish that you and I had just been friends, and that alone.

Regards,

Your Guilty Lover

The End

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