Dear remorseful friend and lover

When I left my wife behind I had been married for well past a decade and you, although older than me by 2 years, we're still virginal somehow. I had known you for about 5 years then and never understood why you took no one during that time for yourself. You have always been so educated, sweet and well mannered. One of the only gentlemen I know under 30 years old.

For a few years the tension between us grew and we pretended it wasn't so obvious until I had finally divorced. Finally, in a sweet but awkward discussion alone on a dark park bench over the river we confirmed our attraction. We decided to try. I made sure you understood I wasn't ready to be a girlfriend yet, being just days after signing the papers. I also let you know after years of neglect I assuredly had the patience of a 13 year martial veteran which could clash with you being so green... You remained sweet and said we'd take things very slow. You asked me to guide just you and simultaneously looked into my eyes like you we're trying to eagerly and cautiously calm a wild rearing horse.

Secretly I was a little uncomfortable because I knew I really just wanted the sex and attention, and you seemed way more excited than I wanted you too that night. But I was so heart broken. For the past weeks I had done nothing but weep in a heap on my floor, angry that I had either wasted my life for so long with my ex or had miserably failed us both by being unable to change. I had never felt more alone even with the uncountable times I had been tossed aside before. You were a light at the end of the tunnel and I knew even if we didn't work out I would be distracted and you would have some of the experience you needed to win over another girl someday.

***

You are so kind yet so ignorant.

When you couldn't put into words what it is about me that you like besides physical attraction. Ouch. I had been patient with you. I was so struck by the brutal honesty but your facial expression said it all in that moment while I was sitting on top of you. Trying to low-key finally lure you into sex after two weeks of flirting signals you didn't know how to react to. You had no intention of hurting me because you were just telling the truth. You didn't know it would hurt me. When I whenced you seemed curious, not pleasured, not apologetic. Honeslty this must be what a cougar deals with when they "coach" young men, I thought. Because here I was, the divorcee, straddling a man who was so clueless that he didn't even know when to spit out even a welcomed lie.

Oh well. I still loved you and told you so. As a friend actually, but it's love none the less. I reminded you many times that I don't want you to regret anything we do as you struggled to let go of your strict religious views on sex which I find profoundly childish. But I guess that childish ignorance, pure selfishness, and brutal honestly is what I love in you as a friend...just...not a lover.

Ultimately you decided you couldn't handle me for multiple reasons. Which the rejection hurt me more than I thought it would. But I realized it didn't hurt nearly as bad as divorce did. It was just a break up. An short lived sexless venture and I was able to distance from it with all my life experience easily enough. It made me wonder how you would take your first real break up. I couldn't tell if you were too deeply affected by losing me. You were upset, sure, but I seemed to bring you too many "life altering choices" and stress I think. Now we talk and see each other no more rarely than before with friends. As if you never enjoyed forcing me to the ground and showing me that good rhythm you didn't know you had...or when looked at me like you could love me while I checked your heart with my stethoscope. The longer I looked in your eyes the more your pulse would rise. It was adorable really... You decided you want to wait for this saintly woman you seem to think exsists and I want to pursue spiritual education and healing without such rigid structure as the bible. It would have never worked I think. I would have been the Pagan Juliet to your Baptist Romeo. Fun as it sounds for a little while we're simply too old for that shit. Plus those stories never end well. Believe me, I lived through one for so long, remember?

Amazingly, it's like none of it happened now. I'm thankful you can let go like that and we're just friends again. But I love the tiny whiffs of trying to impress me or flirt just a little bit... I still can't tell if you catch yourself or not. Somehow I still finding myself still wanting you.