The Mistake I've Made

Note #1

Dear Patrick,

I know what you must think of me right now. You probably think I'm a coward, a stupid person, someone who didn't realize what I had until I lost it. And even if you're thinking something entirely different of me, you'd be right anyway. Because I am a coward, so much so that I was too afraid to accept what you had to offer. You gave me your heart, mind, and soul only to have me crush every last one of those things in a single blow. I was so afraid of you. Terrified, even. Scared that you would come across someone who actually deserved you and leave me behind. I was so afraid to lose you that I just forced you away, and that was my first mistake.

It was also stupid of me to even do what I did and in doing so, I hurt you. I hurt the one thing that kept me going, kept me alive, because without you I'd be long gone by now. And every time I set my eyes upon your beautiful face I was reminded that you were the reason I was here, the reason I breathe, the reason my heart beats. I did an incredibly stupid thing making you go through this, and for that I will never forgive myself.

And of course I knew you were mine, I knew I had you and that was probably what made me take you for granted. I didn't think you'd ever leave no matter what I did. I believed you would stick by me despite the fact that I've fucked up both of our lives. But you, you could actually heal and move on, find someone better and they could love you. But not as much as I do. They could never love you as much as me. I had it easy when we were together and it took you leaving me for me to realize it.

So this is...well, I don't really know what this is. An apology? An attempt to fix something I've broken? A weak attempt to get you back? I don't know, maybe it's none of the above. But then again, maybe it's all three. What I do know though is that I need to fix the mistake I've made, and this seemed to be the best way to start. Even if you never want to see me again I can accept that. Hell, I wouldn't even want to see myself, but that's beside the point.

It's been, what, two weeks? Yeah, two weeks since I've seen you. Two weeks since I watched you leave me. Two weeks and I still haven't stopped crying at night. It sounds ridiculous, I know, me crying when I'm the one who caused all of this. Maybe it's because I hurt you, I'm more upset at the fact I hurt you rather than because you left. Although both of those things burn holes in my chest.

There's a lot that I miss, things that had become a constant in my life and now that they're gone I can't find my ground. Like when you'd wake me in the mornings with sweet kisses and then take all the blankets away so I couldn't get comfortable and go back to sleep. Or when us and the kids would sing songs on the radio while we cleaned the house and you always sang into the handle on the feather duster. Which reminds me of another thing I miss: our kids. I haven't seen them since you took them to Joe and Andy's, but only because I was being a coward again. I was too afraid that I'd run into you. How are they? I miss them. I miss you. I know this probably won't change anything but I just thought these words might mean something. If not, then I'm sorry for wasting your time.

And for all it's worth, I'm sorry.

-Pete