It should be enough for me, and that’s the truth. The truth is it also hurts. You’ve been honest with me, and now it’s my turn.
When we laid together? I wanted so badly to please you like I had once been able to; that you weren’t just doing this out of charity for me—that was very important. Tyrdan put it this way, or not quite this way: that you would do anything for me. And I wanted it to be you could do it for you, too.
Maybe it’s because Talthan was always so particular, or because of our son and how he left us. I realized how often I put the burden on everyone around me to put up with my—with me. It’s the most horrible thing in the world, to suddenly realize how selfish one must have been; how everyone went out of their way to accommodate me, and I wouldn’t have it that way ever again. I wouldn’t do that to you again. That’s why I suggested it would be best if we were apart. Not because–I still love you and want you, but I don’t feel worthy of you. Maybe you’re different now, I don’t know, but you were infinitely patient before, and I’m not sure I really deserved it. Now you just talk of pain if we were to continue this, and maybe that’s so.
Yet I keep missing you, or maybe I miss someone being there. Tyrdan is kind but–you wouldn’t remember our history. At one time, we might have wed after your death, but it still hurt too much for me, and I think for him, he would’ve felt like he was betraying you. Now it doesn’t matter; he is married and expecting. Sometimes I feel a little left behind, though, or like I was promised something, and it never came to be.
I’m sorry, that was awfully emotional for a letter to the Forsaken front, but I just wanted you to know–instead of this awful dance we both seem to be doing. Maybe you’re right, but I can’t let go, even when I feel like I ought.