My darling Thomas,

You’ve disappeared, again, the last text I got from you was over a week ago. You told me you loved me and then you vanished. I’ve reached out to you daily, I’ve questioned your disappearance, your motives, your mindset, but I haven’t gotten an answer. We’ve been down this road before. It’s not the first time you’ve gone silent. Each time you eventually come back, apologetic, loving, promising you won’t do it again. Each time I believe you. Each time I let you back in and I fall in love all over again.

In the interim, I’m left to my own thoughts and my own paranoia that something is terribly wrong. I’m left to wonder and worry about where you are, why you’ve quit speaking to me, and what I’ve done this time to deserve this treatment. I resist the urge to text you and call you, I resist the urge to lash out and react. I resist the urge because I am so afraid of pushing you away. I’m so afraid of doing something that will make you resent me or hate me and endanger the chance of you coming back to me at some point. So, I sit here and find ways to occupy my mind and my soul so that I stop checking my phone and I stop fretting and I stop pacing.

You see, I don’t have anyone I can talk to about you. You are my darkest and best kept secret. You are hidden from the world I live in and you are the only person other than me that knows what we are doing. When you disappear into your world you leave me alone in mine without a friend and without a partner. You leave me to cry into my pillow and make excuses for my bad mood. I can’t tell my best friend how worried I am. I can’t tell my husband why I am crying in the kitchen as I cook dinner. I can’t explain to my coworkers why I’m not overly talkative or excited about the donuts in the kitchen. I can’t tell a single other person why I feel so raw and emotional and empty. I have to carry this alone. I suppose in a way I deserve this. I got myself into this mess and I have to deal with the consequences of my actions, yet I can’t help being angry because I got into this mess with you. I entered into this affair believing I had a partner and a confidant and a lover who would support me and be there for me when I needed him.

I need you to know what your disappearances do to me. I need you to know how utterly hopeless and heartbroken I feel. How despondent I become. I need you to understand that when you disappear, when you won’t just tell me what is going on, when you leave, you leave me more alone than I think you comprehend. Yes, I have friends, and family, and a husband. I have a life that doesn’t include you. But this life, this isn’t a life that can know about you. This suffering is something I have to face alone. This pain is something I cannot share or reconcile with anyone else but you. I don’t think you understand that. I think you imagine me going on with my life, getting on with my day, just moving along until you call again, but it doesn’t work that way. I can’t not worry. I can’t not miss you. I can’t just accept the silence and not knowing without worry and suffering. I can’t not love you.

I go to bed each night hoping I’ll wake to a message from you. I say a prayer each morning that I’ll hear from you at lunch. I curse myself each afternoon and vow to let you go. It’s a vicious cycle and I am struggling to manage it. I hold on because I love you. I hold on because I believe in you and in us, but it takes its toll and it breaks me down a bit more each passing day. Maybe one day I’ll be able to share this with you. Maybe one day you will understand. Maybe one day I’ll find my strength and just move on. Maybe. Hopefully. Someday I will let you go. Today is not that day.

I love you. I miss you. I’m waiting.

Lana