top of page
Search

A little bit heartbroken: a letter to my unrequited crush

Writer's picture: akinkandaprayerakinkandaprayer

Updated: Sep 11, 2022

“Dear unrequited crush,


I want to say I’m sorry. And to thank you.


What has prompted my writing this letter to you now? I think you know, although perhaps not, as I’m sure it was of far less consequence to you than it was to me. What was nothing but a silly miscommunication between us — to which you so graciously responded, “No worries!” — has served as a stark reminder of the boundaries of our friendship. And that I’ve perhaps pushed those limits farther than you’d like.


I know you’d say there’s nothing for me to apologize for, but I disagree. I’m pretty sure things I’ve said or texted have made you uncomfortable at times, although you’ve been nothing but kind.


I’ve been overly familiar in my playfulness. I don’t believe I’ve crossed any serious boundaries. Not intentionally, in any case. But please know that my intention was never to make you uncomfortable.


You’ve been extremely tolerant of me. Thank you for that. I’ve experienced so much joy, so much unexpected delight, in getting to know a different, less frequently seen part myself in getting to know just a little bit of you.


You’ve assured me that you know I’m just joking. But in that non-confrontational way that you have, always mindful of others’ feelings, I can see that you’re asking me to step back, to step away. To give you space because I’m asking too much of you. I should have recognized the signals sooner, but I was too caught up in my own stuff, my own journey, in the excitement of the unfamiliar, to hear you clearly. So I’m sorry for that, too.


And I’m sorry that your attempt at setting boundaries because of a misunderstanding and your kind redirecting of our conversation to diffuse the awkwardness made me so fucking angry. Not that I let you know that I was angry.


But I was. And hurt. And a bit heartbroken.


At the first my anger was directed at you, for not being upfront with me. For not pointing out the shallow from the deep end before I went ahead and waded in too far. Why must you beat around the bush so much? Why couldn’t you just tell me honestly that you had no interest in carrying on with my playful, and yes, at times, flirty, banter? If I sounded cold in my response to your gentle confrontation— if one can even call it that — it was because all these feelings hit me like a tidal wave. And yet, how could you have known?


But if I’m honest, I’m really just angry with myself. For allowing myself to get hurt over a relationship that was only ever meant to be platonic. I’ve been trying to be open, to accept and be myself with everyone, to live in the moment, to soak up life. But opening myself up to the possibilities of joy also means being open to being hurt. And so none of this is your fault really.


Even though I haven’t crossed any lines, I wouldn’t be surprised if you have found my behavior confusing or disconcerting at times. I’m also sorry for that.


I’ve felt alive just being in your orbit, and your proximity has stirred up so many wonderful feelings. Curiosity. Playfulness. Mischievousness. Hunger and longing. Wanderlust. And even though our recent conversation has made me feel chastened about the way I’ve been with you (not that you meant to chastise me — you’re too gentle for that!), I can’t regret how knowing you has made me feel, as unintentional as it’s been on your part. Just in knowing you, you’ve help me imagine new, unfamiliar, exciting possibilities.


Unbeknownst to you, you’ve helped fan an erotic spark in me. You’ve unknowingly allowed me to reimagine my love life. So I want to thank you for that, too.


I know you’re a good man. And we’re both married with families. You’re friends with my husband, a man to whom I’m wholly committed. I would never do anything that would hurt the trust I have with my spouse. Nor would I ever want to interfere with your relationship. I think you know this, but let me assure you that despite any confusion you may have felt as a result of my familiarity with you, over my motives or intentions, infidelity was never on the table. If you ever felt any worry that I might want to cross that line with you, I’m sorry to have caused you any concern. Again, I never intended to make you uncomfortable.


But the truth is that I also like you. As more than just a friend. As more than just a friend who jokes around in a very familiar way with another friend. My inner-teenager would say, I like you like you. So while you’re right that I am just joking when I play around with you, I’m also not just joking. I want your attention. I want to know you. I want desperately for you to want to know me. Simply put: I’ve got a crush on you.


So if you’ve ever felt confused by the way that I am with you, you’re not imagining it. It’s there. I’m attracted to you. What more, in my erotic imaginings, I want you.


But, of course, you know nothing of any of this. Of my journey. Of my passionate, evolving relationship with my spouse that leads us down exciting, unexpected roads. Of the way the playful repertoire between us has excited me, has allowed me to feel like a whole person, not just a mother or a wife or a life partner. How our friendship has played a part in awakening my erotic imagination. And so my behavior may have been confusing, if not disconcerting, to you.


So I’m working on letting you go. Our recent, silly misunderstanding has alerted me to the fact that I’m too attached to someone who just isn’t available in the way I want them to be. And I think maybe keeping you at arm’s length — still allowing myself the excitement of playing pretend and dancing with my erotic self when I’m with you — rather than simply stepping away, will only cause me pain.


To find at 42, married for two decades with three children, that I can still crush hard on someone, that I can still be pulled in by someone and feel electrified, has been a life-changing, life-affirming experience. I’m grateful for that. And as I nurse my wounded heart and ego, I’ll remind myself of this fact.


May you find happiness in all you do. And may my friendship, as much as I’m able to give and still preserve my sanity, bring you nothing but joy. May you only smile when you think of me.


Yours truly, if only for a moment,

A Kink and a Prayer”



I will pick up the context for this cathartic letter-writing exercise next week. Thank you to those who cringed along with me this week. I feel I have much to cringe about far too often these days. 🙃


Be gentle with me, dear readers, as I try to be gentle with myself. And as always,


Until next time, stay kinky 😉

43 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


Subscribe Form

Thanks for submitting!

©2021 by a kink and a prayer. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
bottom of page