Dear friend,

I am terrible at having serious conversations. I also fell asleep at my desk last night, and now, my shoulders are aching.

No, I was not working—I was crying, because I failed at opening up my relationship with David. I thought it would be easy. I thought I would tell him, that we can do this one little thing that will fix the entirety of a bigger problem we’d been having, and that we’d be on our merry little way, having lovely, protected make-up sex, mere minutes later.

In reality, David cried. I cried.

I ran away.

I’m not scared of imagining David with someone else—he deserves to experience all the love in the world, for as long as he is on this Earth. What terrifies me, is David realizing that life is better elsewhere. I don’t want to be alone again. It hurts when I think that I could very well be left behind, if I let him do this.

But I know David isn’t mine. He’s not a plaything, a toy. He has feelings he can’t control, too. Emotions he also wishes he could rid himself of, sometimes. He didn’t seem relieved at all when I suggested we try this open-relationship endeavor. He looked terrified.

Perhaps, in the end, we are both scared.

It is different for me, though, I think.

David won’t be the one who stays at home, while I go out on dates. David won’t be the one who finds strange marks on my body—marks that are not his—if we ever make love again.

Friend, I need to stop thinking about this. I have to get ready. I’m meeting my assistant soon. I can’t look like a mess when I do—first impressions are important.

Maybe getting some fresh air will be good for me. Over these past few days, I’ve been doing nothing, lately, but stare at the ceiling, or look up articles on how quickly my wrist has a chance at healing.

Urgh. I’m sure that I could have handled my relationship better if I wasn’t going through this at the same time.

I don’t want to put all the blame on my injury, however.

I must be better. For David, and for myself.

My alarm just rang, I believe that is my queue to go ready myself for said outing with this fabled, new assistant.

I will be back in a moment, friend.

***

…Friend,

I did not expect to find a letter penned by David left on my pillow in our bed, once I had finished showering and was scavenging for clothes. What was most surprising, too, was the fact that my lover was still here, sleeping on a pillow of his own.

I did not wake him.

I took the letter.

Instead of getting dressed, I allowed for the towel to drop down at my feet, and slid in, beneath our sheets.

With as much care as I could muster, I opened the envelope as quietly as I could.

Alex, it read.

I know I’ve said this already, but I’m really sorry.

I’m bad at explaining myself, especially when I have to talk out loud. I agree this is something we probably need to discuss, though, so… I’m writing you this letter. And also, sorry if the words look a bit wonky, my hands are shaking, I’m writing this at six in the morning. I spent my night just… thinking. About this. And us. Honestly, that was probably a really shitty idea, because I know myself, and I’m going to sleep through my alarm clock, and miss my classes.

Anyway, before I get too off topic, I just want you to know that I love you, Alex. Like, you have no idea how much. And, actually, on the night that you called and told me we should do that open relationship thing, I was determined to tell Isaac the next morning that I wanted him to stop being kind of flirty with me, because that wasn’t cool.

But then we had our talk, and it came out all wrong, and I’m sorry once again. Honestly, I understand if this has messed up the trust you have in me. I wouldn’t blame it on you if you wanted to break up now. Actually… I don’t even know what’s going on. Are we still together?

Are we on a break?

Should I just… pack my bags and leave?

Reading this phrase got me choked up all again.

I bit back my tears.