Dear {Name Redacted} | A Moment of Vulnerability

September 2, 2025

Dear {Name Redacted},

I remember the early days.

The hikes.

The hours on a Sunday evening playing Scrabble, laughing, and talking.

The walks with your dogs.

That night of sea shanties you were such a good sport for.

What felt like the ease of genuine connection—true friendship, possibility.

Oh, I liked you.

I liked just being in your company.

And I remember feeling unsure.

Confused.

Nervous, because I didn’t know what was happening between us.

All I wanted was for you to kiss me.

And then you did.

It was amazing.

I wanted you to do it again—and so much more.

And you did.

Again and again and again.

And I did what I knew might happen—I fell in love with you.

Despite the warning signs in my body.

Despite your strangeness I could never quite read.

Despite the sense that you were hiding a secret I wasn’t allowed to see.

I fell in love—deeply, fully, wholly.

And now, all these months and truths, later,

I’ve seen behind your mask.

And I wish you hadn’t kissed me.

Not because I don't love you.

Because I do.

I wish we had just kept playing Scrabble.

Kept laughing.

Kept enjoying each other’s company.

I wish we could still be friends.

I wish we had peace.

Honestly, I’d settle for eye contact—

for the recognition that we knew each other deeply,

If only the stones between us weren't so heavy.

I wish you had never kissed me.

Maybe someday things will be different.

But only if there is safety.