#64 Entry

Dear Mrs.,

I don't know if you'll ever read these words. Perhaps they're only meant to stay within these pages, where my heart can finally speak without interruption.

You hurt me.

Whether you intended to or not, there were moments when I felt unwelcome, unseen, and as though my love for your son would never be enough. I carried that pain quietly for a long time.

There were nights when I wondered why it always felt like I had to earn a place in his life, as if love was something to compete for.

Your son promised me the world.

He promised me a future, a home, marriage, and a life where we would face everything together. I believed every word because I believed in him. I believed that when the difficult moments came, we would stand side by side.

But when those moments arrived, his loyalty always found its way back to you.

And every time that happened, a part of me wondered where I belonged.

What hurt me the most was hearing him say that everything he did—every holiday we couldn't spend together, every time I felt pushed aside, every decision that left me alone—was his choice.

I wanted those words to set me free from blaming you.

Instead, they broke my heart in a different way.

Because if they were truly his choices, then it meant the person I love chose not to choose us in those moments. The pain didn't disappear. It simply changed its face.

I never wanted him to choose between us.

I only wanted him to make space for both of us.

For a long time, I blamed you for everything.

But lately, I've been asking myself a different question.

What if you're simply afraid?

Afraid that as your son grows older, he'll leave your side. Afraid how you are no longer be the center of his world. Afraid of being forgotten.

If that's true, then I understand more than I wish I did.

Because I know what it feels like to fear losing someone you love.

And that is why another feeling has been weighing on me.

Guilt.

I feel guilty for hating you.

There were moments when anger consumed me so deeply that I couldn't see anything beyond my own pain. I hated the thought of you. I hated what I believed you represented in my relationship. And afterward, I hated myself for carrying so much resentment.

Because I know pain can make people hold on too tightly.

I know fear can make people act in ways they never imagined.

Maybe you weren't trying to take him away from me.

Maybe you were only trying not to lose your son.

The tragedy is that we were both holding on to the same person, but from different places in our hearts.

I wanted to build a future with him.

You wanted to keep your son close.

Neither of those desires is wrong.

What hurts is that somewhere along the way, I became the one who felt left behind.

I don't know if you'll ever understand the tears I've cried because of all this.

And I don't know if I'll ever fully understand yours.

But tonight, I choose to believe that beneath all the misunderstandings and hurt are simply two women who love the same person in different ways, each carrying her own fear of losing him.

I hope one day you no longer carry the fear of being abandoned.

And I hope one day, the promises your son made to me will finally be matched by the courage to stand beside them.

Until then, I will carry both love and heartbreak in the same heart, praying that one day neither of us has to feel like loving him means losing a part of ourselves.