Jane Smith
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The One That Got Away

Sometimes I miss you.

Sometimes I miss you; all of the late night phone conversations, great sex, and the happy times come flooding back into my head every once in a while. It makes me smile. These thoughts will pop into my head without warning: when I’m doing laundry, at work, talking on the phone to my mom. But after reminiscing on these good memories, a feeling of dread comes over me. It happens every time; I try to drown out everything that you did to me, but it doesn't work for the umpteenth time. I start to remember all of the lies, fights, abandonment...

When I think about you, it's almost as if my body tenses up in confusion. I don't know how someone could make you so happy, so upset, and so insecure all at the same time. I was putting myself through this just as much as you were destroying me. But then you left under circumstances that I still don't understand. How someone leaves a woman like that, I don't think I will ever understand.

I still remember that day — the day that changed my life for the better even though it still hurts. I was going to see you, taking forever to get ready because I always wanted you to think that I was beautiful, longing to hear those words come from your mouth one day, but never hearing it. You weren’t at your house, you weren’t answering your phone, and it’s almost as if you dropped off the face of the Earth. I was so worried about you; I just wanted to hear your voice to know that you were okay. Instead, I heard your best friend tell me that you had moved across the country; you not only abandoned me, but you abandoned your unborn child.

I thought things were going well; the night before was the first time that we were able to have an actual conversation. I told you I was pregnant. I thought you were excited. I thought you loved me. And I never thought you were capable of hurting me any more than your words did; I didn’t think it was possible to hurt this much by someone that always managed to upset you.

At the time, I felt as if you had my life, our life, in the palm of your hands and you were just letting it slip. No, you weren't letting it slip; you threw it on the ground and stomped on it. It was so crushed I never thought that I would be able to pick it up and piece it back together. Like always, you left someone to clean up your mess. With help, eventually, it was to the point that my life was almost complete again. Unfortunately, there was always something missing, and there still is.

It's so sick to think that with the healthy, stable marriage that I have now, I still don't feel what I felt with you. I can't shake this feeling and it's been 15 years. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for allowing myself to go through this. I’m mad that I allowed you to get in my head this way, and that I can’t get you out of my head no matter what I do. Maybe it’s because my son is the spitting image of you. I shouldn't feel this way about you and I'm grateful that I remember the terrible things that you did. I hope someday you get the chance to read this, and I hope you’re not treating anybody else the way you treated me. I know now that I am stronger, smarter, and healthier without you in my life, but I still love you.