Alright... I've been wanting to do this for a long time. But, those of you who are tired of hearing me whine, bitch, moan and fuss about Bryan, turn your heads now.

I've been wanting to write Bryan a letter. I've been wanting to ask him what I did wrong and what I could have done differently. And yet, I've never actually been able to write one I was satisfied with.

(I've written many letters, just none that I was satisfied with)

So, I think that what I'm going to do is write an "open letter" to Bryan in this forum. I think that I might be able to scrap the anger and hurt if I know that someone read and understood what my emotions are telling me.

That probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but I understand what I mean.

So... this is an open letter to Bryan. One I know he'll never read, but I know it will be read, and that might make all the difference in the world.

I am a wuss. I need external validation.

Bryan,

Well... I suppose I could be so gouche as to ask you how you're doing, but that's not the point of this letter, and you know me well enough to know that when I have something to say, I don't pussy foot with niceties.

I'm sitting here staring at my computer screen, thinking about all the dozens of Emails you and I sent each other. I think about all those nights in the Lair with Tig and Marius, then Corrin and Jean Claude/Vamp. *chuckles softly*

We've known each other for nearly four years now, Bryan. I've run through the gamut of emotions in regard to you. And I have come to a few decisions. None of them were made easily. And most were made kicking and screaming so to speak.

I want some answers from you. What happened during the two weeks between your leaving me and your first post-trip Email? I really want to know. Sue me if this is some stupid and petty need for "closure". You know I'm not a girly-girl. You know that I don't go in for those sappy overly-emotional flares and such. But I want to know if there was something I could have done or been that would have changed the outcome.

Did you really not know how intensely I loved you? I want to think that you were just ignorant of that fact... but it was so very obvious to me. And, you told me you loved me, Bryan. Did you say that just so you could get the blow job?

Yes, I am ashamed of doing that. However, I don't blame you in any way. It was my choice. And, I haven't done anything even remotely sexual since. Hell, yours was the last kiss I've had.

I'm angry, Bryan. I'm angry that I let you in. I'm angry that I trusted you. I'm angry and pissed off and so very hurt that I felt so pure while looking into your eyes.

I hadn't felt that way since before Jonny tried to rape me. I felt innocent once again when I was with you. When I looked into your eyes, I.....

*shakes her head*

That doesn't matter.

Is there anything I could have done? Is there anything I could have been that would have prompted you to fulfill your promise? For a long time I thought I had cast my spell on you, so to speak. I thought you were in love with ME. But, as I think about it. I think that maybe you were in love with the Ocean instead.

It wasn't me you were hungering for. It was the purity and the peace and the power in the ocean.

You know what, Bryan... It's been two years since you were here. It's been two years since I"ve been crying and pissed off over you. And I just now, just this very minute, realized why the relationship/thing/fling with you hurt me so very deeply.

I allowed myself to be raped by you. No physically, buy psychologically. When I saw you step off the plane. When you looked into my eyes and smiled that soft, loving, accepting smile, the previous 12 years simply fell away from me. They were gone.

I felt pure and whole for the first time in 12 years.

I allowed myself to be raped by an idea I created. But... But I don't really believe that answer. I don't believe that I created the love I saw in your eyes. I don't think I made up the acceptance and adoration you showed me. I don't think I faked that.

I think it was real.

Damn, I feel like I'm looking through a kaliedescope, trying to figure out what the real picture is supposed to be.

Everything I see clearly tells me that you never really loved me. Everything I see... everything that is obvious to me, says that I projected my feelings upon you.

And yet... every once in a while, as I'm turning that dial, I can see a speck of the real picture. I can see a speck of the honesty in your eyes. I can feel the peace from your heart as my arms rested about your shoulders.

And....

(*stops for a minute, wiping tears away*)

Every once in a while, in that kaliedescope, I see a speck of the look in your eyes as you handed me the rose, your fingers brushing mine ever so slightly, that look in your eyes that said you wanted nothing more than to stay with me forever.

I can't count the number of times I've berated myself for that time at the airport. Two times, actually. The first was when you looked into my eyes and told me that you wished you could just stay. You told me you still had a thousand bucks in your account. You could get a job here. You could stay.

And then I said... fool that I was... that you had commitments in Colorado. That you had to go back and at least take care of your loose ends. But that you could hurry back.

The second time was just before you got on the plane. You kissed me. In the airport, in front of everyone. And you said that I would get the other kiss when you came back next summer because kisses always come in pairs.

And what did I do? Me, the fool that I am, I told you I couldn't wait, so I kissed you again.

Damn it... I have berated myself a thousand times for those two "blunders". I prayed that once you got on the loading ramp, you would turn around and come back to me and never leave. But you didn't. You kept going. And you didn't look back.

And once they closed the loading gate doors, I turned and walked away. I didn't look back either.

I didn't cry until I got to the car. I saw that rose so perfect, so deep red, so filled with the hopes and dreams I had of our future. Hopes and dreams that I foolishly thought you shared. I cried four tears then forced myself back under control.

I got in the car and drove away from the airport without looking back. I made it about 70 miles or so before the tears forced themselves back into my eyes.

I pulled over at a rest stop, buried my nose in that rose and cried. I cried for you. I missed you so very much. But, I still felt pure. I still felt whole and complete, though so sad that you were gone. I was so sad that I was going to have to wait six whole months before I'd get to see you again.

And then the tears stopped because I told myself that I would go out to visit you in February. I would cut the time in half and go out to see you and spend two weeks exploring your home and your world. And then I would only have to wait another two and a half months for you to come back to me and live with me at the ocean.

With that knowledge in mind, I made it home without another tear. I spent the next couple days catching my breath each time I went past the couch, realizing you weren't there. I spent the next few days missing you, thinking about you and wanting you. I wrote you a few Emails, expecting a reply and receiving none.

I was concerned. I was worried something may have happened to you. I wanted you to be safe. I wrote to you telling you that I wanted to go to Colorado for the late winter to spend time with you there. To see the things you loved. To share your loves with you the way I'd shared mine.

It was two weeks and a little before you wrote back to me.

Your letter cut me to the bone like no other. Your letter froze me in my tracks and I stopped breathing. Your letter hurt so very badly.

You told me that you hoped what we had done hadn't meant anything to me. You said that you loved me like a part of your family. Like a sister.

Oh, how that hurt. How that hurt so very, very badly. I saw my future with you, Bryan. I saw our children in your eyes. And you equated my vision with incest.

You hoped what we did didn't mean anything to me.

You're the only person I trusted since my marriage fell apart, Bryan. And I haven't trusted anyone since you.

I keep telling myself that you didn't mean the things you said in the way that I interpreted them. I keep telling myself that I created love in your eyes where there was none. But reality... The truth of the matter is that you DID love me. You did. I know you did. You told me so. And I believed you.

And I'm the fool.

Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tight. Shame on me for opening up to you. Shame on me for letting you in. Shame on me for being so weak. Shame on me for believing you. Shame on me for thinking I could ever feel pure again. Shame on me for thinking that I can ever be loved for who and what I am.

And that's the point, isn't it?

That's the whole point.

While you were here... while you loved me, I believed that I was worthy of your love. I believed that I was valuable. I believed that I was someone.

I don't know how to get that back, Bryan. I know that I've been crying over you for two years. I know that when I called you and you told me you were getting married... you were so happy. You were alive and bright with joy. And I couldn't speak.

Could you hear the tears in my voice? Could you hear the pain? Could you feel my life crumbling around my ankles?

Would you have cared if you did?

did I do something wrong, or can I honestly say that you were just an asshole? Can I write this off as bad timing? Can I write this off as just some really collosal bad timing?

Did I do something to fuck up? Did I actually have a fault in this, or were you really just a foolish kid? I was 29, you were 24. Should I just chalk this up as an episode of you being too young and me expecting too much?

Or, was I just a game? Did you come out here and "love me" on a dare? Did you come out here and .....

I don't know what to think anymore.

I'm trying to move on in my life, Bryan. I need to get past this step. I want to get married again sometime in my future, but if I'm carrying your scars around, I won't ever have a real and full relationship with my husband whomever he may be.

I need to know... Did I do something wrong? Is there something I could have done differently? Is there a real reason you turned out to not love me the way your eyes said you did? Or was it all some big, bad, nasty and cruel joke?

I have to get past this. I absolutely have to get past this.

I keep pushing people away cause I don't want to hurt this badly. And yet... the more I push, the more I hurt.

I know you'll never read this. I know you'll never see it. I know that no one you know will ever read it, see it or tell you about it. But I still want to know.

Maybe by putting this down in pixel format I will have purged something.

I hurt, Bryan. I hurt because I was emotionally, psychologically even, raped. Not that you intended to cause me pain. But I got hurt anyway. And I don't like that.

The only other pain that came close... not equal, but close, was when Tom sucker punched me emotionally.

But .....

No more but's.

I truly and honestly wish you a happy and fulfilling life with your soon-to-be wife.

Know this, however... No one will ever love you the way I loved you. Not ever.