To my Evergreen

I hope you are in peace. These words will bring with them a storm of emotions. There's no easy way to say what needs to be said, and I find myself struggling to put into words the complexity of our journey together.

You've been my best friend, my family, my unwavering support—the rock on which I leaned through the highs and lows of life. But, in the quiet recesses of my heart, I need to admit something painful—I've never been attracted to you in the way that a romantic partner should be.

Our story began when I was 34, and now, at 48, I find myself grappling with the weight of these unspoken truths. My mental health issues, coupled with my lack of physical attraction, cast a shadow over our intimate moments.

I want you to know that my love for you was genuine, rooted in admiration for your mind and the unconditional love you offered. You are a good and amazing person, and I clung to you. You have been my sense of safety for so long.

Yet, in my attempt to preserve what we had, I ended up hurting us both. I coerced myself into physical intimacy, and though there were fleeting moments when I could conjure desire, the majority of those years left me with a lingering discomfort. It pains me to admit this, but our relationship began to feel like a struggle against an unseen force, a force I now recognize as my own internal conflict.

In my desperate attempt to maintain the façade of normalcy, I resorted to using substances and retreating to my fantasy world to cope with the pain of our disconnection. It was a misguided and, frankly, self-destructive choice on my part.

Doing polyamory seemed like a solution. We had our share of positive experiences, and overall, we found contentment in that unconventional path. But recent events, particularly my obsession with someone who I fantasized could fulfill my unmet needs, left us reeling from the chaos I created trying to own and control them. I made you an accessory to my crimes, guilty by association. Yes, you played the role of enabler, but I know how tortured it made you feel. You were only trying to placate my irrational desires.

I've come to a painful realization during this tumultuous period. Our strained attempts at intimacy and our criminal activities—all of it is my responsibility. As we navigate the ending of our union, I want to be honest with you about the depth of my internal struggle, the weight of my selfishness, and the impact it has had on both of us.

I understand that my honesty may cause you immense pain, and for that, I am truly sorry. It is not a reflection of your worth or our shared history. It is an acknowledgment of my own internal conflicts that have festered for far too long.

I am sorry we can no longer be together. I love you and I always will, to your final days and beyond.

Love, S.