I've written here before about how the only real contact The Murse and I have anymore is our obligatory birthday emails to each other.
This year's birthday email from him was especially bizarre to me. But when I received that pouring-out-his-heart letter from him a few months later, I realized why.
So, today is The Murse's birthday. And prior to getting that letter from him, I really had planned to just ignore it and let things naturally move on from there.
But since I never responded to the letter, I figured I would kill two birds with one stone today. So I wrote him a very nice, funny birthday email.
Told him how my one sissy's hubs is obsessed with finding "letters to the editor" in the newspaper written by his dad. (Seriously. The man has a letter in the Plain Dealer at least once a month.)
How my other sissy and her hubs are expecting a baby.
How I've got another summer of wedding fun lined up, and I'm very much looking forward to celebrating with our friends Michele/Eric and Jenn/Brian. (I got the friends in the break-up.)
And then, I acknowledged the letter.
I thanked him for what he said in it, then basically told him that I was sorry that I didn't really have a deep or profound response to it. Mostly because I had promised myself a long time ago that I couldn’t invest any more time into thinking about “what could have been” with us.
I thought that was the nicest way to let him know that I appreciated the gesture, but that it was still too little, too late.
I have a feeling I may not be getting that obligatory birthday email from him next year.