this letter still begs to be sent . . .

Anonymous,

You attack me for not telling you "why," when all you needed was to simply ask, "why?" That is, if you actually wanted to know. In affairs of the heart and the flesh, many prefer to not know, and so my restraint in explanation was meant as measured respect, not avoidance or dishonesty.

But you never did ask why I ended it, why I tried to scale it back. If you have somehow found your way upon this, and if you never asked why because you truly did not want to know, then stop reading now. I am about to explain why. Not for you, but for myself. It is a fine explanation, and it has been sitting upon my mind like a well-written line in a play that had to go undelivered, as the other actor in the scene forgot to prompt it. That is why I write it here, for a somewhat public, instead of actually sending it to you - because like a line in a play, it is more about presentation than actual communication at this point.

Your accusations of selfishness reveal that you are well aware of how I have spurned previous lovers - simple withdrawal, denial of phone calls, deletion of emails. In short, with callousness and without warning. I feel you should have seen what meager explanation I gave you as a sign of respect in comparison, but I can see how emotion would have blinded you to this possibility.

We were unable to communicate, as evidenced by the abundance of words we needed to exchange in order to preface any physical interaction. Your denial of our friendship (at least my version of it) ever existing was spot-on, but it was not hurtful. I had realized that truth the first night we kissed, but was unable to conceptualize it at the time. My belief that we had a level of tacit understanding was immediately shattered when talking became a requisite, and when the talking did not come easily. This inability to communicate never stemmed from dissatisfaction in the bedroom, but rather resulted in it.

I do not feel guilty, although you may like me to, for spurning you. I also do not accuse you of letting me down or any such thing. Not everyone can communicate with one another, and there is no one to blame for that. Words can only go so far. Knowing that they have reached their limit here, I have none left for you.

I only wonder, if you had asked why, how you would have then reacted. But I don't really want to know that, which is why I never wrote you this letter, and why you never read it.

-Vi