She is beautiful, stunning actually. Sometimes she knows it, sometimes she wouldn’t believe it if Jesus himself came down and exclaimed it was so. She is smart and funny and can be so very caring. She can flip on a dime and in that way she reminds me of you. I owe her so much. She brought me to sobriety which in turn brought me peace, she brought me amazing sex which ignited my passion and clarified my crippling desire for intimacy, she taught me to look at things differently which inspired me to seek more wisdom and introspection. And I sit here wishing I could hate her. I hate the way she tanks our relationship whenever it starts to reach its potential. I hate the way she hides her phone but looks over my shoulder at mine. I hate the way she feigns jealousy just to keep me thinking she cares about me more than she does. I hate the way she punishes for your confessions if they involve her. Like a foot on your neck pulled off just as you start to pass out, her withholding of what you need is relieved only when you think you might escape. Because there is no escape. She doesn’t lie, but you’ll never know the truth. And I love her and I know she can come back whenever she wants, that things won’t change, and that I will be her willing heartache again and again. And in that way, she reminds me of you too. She isn’t even gone yet, but I miss her so. She brings a smile to my lips even now as I sit here with you both. So similar and so different. And I am a bit scared that she can compete with you. No one has ever competed with you. But she could love me huge if she would only allow her heart to heal. I remember when you felt that way about me. And I think she might do exactly what I did to you and I don’t think I can take it. I don’t know why I wrote you. I guess I knew you would understand. I know leaving home is a part of life, but damn I still miss you so much it hurts.
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“She brings a smile to my lips even now as I sit here with you both.”
That line startled me. I thought there might be some macabre twisted ending.
Either way, IMHO, it read, for me, like a prologue to a potentially good short story.
Keep writing!