MOTHER EFFING HOLY HELL.
(I realize that this is likely sacrilegious to say on Good Friday, but I think you'll agree this post warrants it. In fact, I almost didn't even write this post because it's so crazy to me. But since I've opened up to you guys so much about my love life for the past seven or so months, it felt sort of right to share it with you here.)
When I got home last nite, I grabbed my mail on the way into the condo. In addition to an invitation to a wedding shower (my second in as many weeks -- Always a Bridesmaid lives on!), there "it" was. A letter. From The Murse.
(For those of you who don't remember, The Murse is the guy I thought I would marry. We dated for 6+ years and broke up about 3 years ago. Since then, we've seen each other a handful of times, and pretty much only talk when we exchange obligatory "happy birthday" emails.)
I actually thought about publishing the letter verbatim, but then I decided it was a little too personal to do that. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have never really opened up about my relationships, and publishing The Murse's thoughts word for word just didn't feel right.
(Which probably seems weird to you, as a reader of a blog about my dating life. But if you don't know me, you probably don't realize what a huge step it was for me to even start this thing. But trust me. This blog's contents are very out of character for the real-life Always a Bridesmaid.)
Anyhow, back to the point. The letter from the ex. WHOA.
It was two pages, handwritten on lined paper and meticulously thought out. And it was apparent to me that the feelings The Murse expressed in that letter had been running through his head for some time now.
Essentially, he told me that he made a huge mistake when he couldn't commit to me three years ago. That working in the hospital has made him realize that people don't always get to say what they want to say, and he didn't want to be one of them. That he still thinks about me all the time. That I will always be the one who got away.
I really don't know what to think. On one hand, I am sad to know that my life right now could be so very different had things gone differently three years ago, and would probably include a husband and a family and a white picket fence. (In the letter, The Murse said that he wished we had had a family.) A life where I wouldn't be alone on a holiday like I will be this weekend.
On the other, I've forced myself to be over this relationship for so long now that I don't really think I could ever go back. (And, truth be told, my friends and family are so angry with The Murse now that it would be nearly impossible to go back, even if I thought I wanted to do it. I could never date someone who my friends and family didn't like.) And who's to say that I would have been happy with a guy who was so indecisive to begin with?
So, there you have it. I don't have any particularly enlightening things to say about this whole situation beyond, "Holy shit." (Thank goodness I didn't give up swearing for Lent like I did last year.)
That said, I'm hopeful that maybe the Easter Bunny will bring me something really, really awesome in my basket this year. Like a guy who adores me and realizes it when he's got me next to him. Not three years too late. (And if that's too much to ask, Mr. E. Bunny, I'll take a couple of tins of Pringles.)