Dear Ms Anneliese,
My life is completely littered with letters I’ve written to you that I will never send. Written on bits of paper, on the backs of business cards, and in my notebooks, wrappers, receipts anything I can write on. On occasion I will read them and ask myself why I continue to pour my love away to someone who does not need it, and I wonder how I am going to recover, when I don’t even want to try.
You are a sweat and beautiful woman and I love and respect you very much, even though I know that I am not the man you need in your life, even though I know I was simply lucky to have any portion of your love for me.
Have you ever though of how lucky we were to even know each other? At least I was lucky. I think that kind of luck comes easy to you, even though I’m sure it brings its own kind of heart ach.
I miss you and I wish you were a larger part of my life.
I Love you Anneliese
(There is one part of this letter that is a lie. I am what Anneliese needs in her life. But I think she feels pressure from me when I don’t meant to exert any pressure. So this is kind of release. She may not even understand it yet, but one day I think she will realize that we could have been very happy together. I would give her the things she needs but does not yet seek, like security for her and her children, love and understanding, respect, pure joy. I like her and at least I get to see you and hang with her, and I get to do so even though I have been completely honest and she knows how I feel. I don’t have to pretend and she still loves me hang with me, thats pretty rare.)