She says she’ll always love me, but she didn’t say who she was

The letter came by email. No name. A subject that said only, “Hello from the Past.” Just a message from a ghost who knew how to open old wounds.

It was only three paragraphs long, but I kept coming back to the final sentences.

“I will always love the man who loved me best, even though you won’t believe that and even though I’m sure you feel nothing for me now,” the letter said. “I miss your love and attention more than anybody knows.”

There was no signature. No clue. Just quiet regret and longing, poured out across an anonymous digital connection. There was no anger. No accusation. I keep reading the words over and over, wondering which woman wrote them — and wondering why she needed to send this.

She said she had run across a photo of me online which had triggered old feelings. She said she tries not to think about me anymore.

“You’re still a fire that draws me and now I can’t touch that fire, so I shouldn’t even look and let myself be tempted,” she wrote. “I feel this mostly when it’s late at night and I allow my brain to stop processing the distractions of my normal life. It makes me feel the almost uncontrollable urge to pick up the phone and call you again, but I know you probably wouldn’t want me to do that and probably wouldn’t answer if I did call.”

But who is she?

I forwarded the email to a friend and then called her for an opinion. She mentioned one possibility. I added a couple of others.

Loving relationships don’t always end cleanly when they’re broken. My experience is that the more two people want to find a way to continue a relationship, the more complicated and messy it is when things can’t continue for one reason or another.

The casual dating relationships that have ended with quiet goodbyes and acknowledgment of going in different directions haven’t been difficult for me. They’ve been clean and simple.

But deeper love doesn’t end cleanly. It can just become quiet and distant, because neither person wants to admit things are over for good. And sometimes it sleeps for so long — for months or even years — you think it’s gone for good.

Until someone writes you a letter and reminds you that there’s still some love hidden in someone’s heart.

My friend asked me whether I’d pick up the phone if her prime suspect were to call. I admitted that I didn’t know. I told her that I probably shouldn’t. I reminded her of another time when I did pick up the phone years ago and answer a call out of the blue from one of those women — and how it had led to nothing but pain.

For now, the uncertainty of the woman’s identity leaves me going over all sorts of scenarios in my head.

She made it very clear that she’s trying not to think about the love we once shared. (The complete text is below.) But the act of writing the letter tells me she hasn’t gotten over that love. It tells me she needed to speak something into the world, even if it wasn’t meant to be answered. Even if she didn’t want to hear back from me.

Or maybe she did want to hear back, but couldn’t bring herself to give me the chance. Maybe she didn’t want for either of us to be disappointed one more time.

The truth is, I don’t know what I’d say if I could talk with her. The response would be very different depending on who it was. I’d have little or nothing to say to some of them, but the feelings would be very different if it were one of them in particular. Part of me would want to tell her she’s wrong — that I do still love her on some level. That I still think about her. That I carry pieces of that old love with me — when I let myself remember.

But there’s another part of me that wonders if she’s right. Maybe it’s best that I don’t know. Maybe it’s best that I leave everyone from the past completely in the past. Maybe I should delete this email instead of reading it again and again looking for clues.

I wish she had told me who she was. I really do, because I don’t like uncertainty. But maybe I really do know, even though I don’t have a rational reason to know.

Maybe I just don’t want to admit to myself who I hope still loves me. I didn’t realize that until right now.

Note: Here’s the complete email. The name on the email account was “Anonymous Coward.” Here’s the text:

“I came across a picture of you online that seems to be recent and I wasn’t surprised to see you haven’t changed a bit. Seeing you again after all this time brought back a flood of emotions that I try not to feel anymore, because those feelings are dangerous. You’re still a fire that draws me and now I can’t touch that fire, so I shouldn’t even look and let myself be tempted. I feel this way mostly when it’s late at night and I allow my brain to stop processing the distractions of my normal life. It makes me feel an uncontrollable urge to pick up the phone and call you again, but I know you probably wouldn’t want me to do that and you probably wouldn’t answer if I did call.

“Even though I’m a coward to pretend this is anonymous (and I’m sure you’ll know it’s me), doing it this way lets me feel like there’s a veil to keep a separation between the life I have and the life I wish I had instead. I know I’m being selfish and weak. Please forgive me.

“I’m so sorry about choices that can’t be unmade now. If we could do things over again, the ending would be different. I’ve been over this is my head a thousand times. I will always love the man who loved me best, even though you won’t believe that and even though I’m sure you feel nothing for me now. I miss your love and attention more than anybody knows.”