subject line: anonymous.


where no one knows my name

I’m writing this while sitting outside a restaurant alone. I’m surrounded by faces that don’t know me and voices that I’ve never heard. I smile at my server and the breeze envelops me in a sense of contentment I can’t explain. I’m happy here. I’m happy on my own.

I’m good at being alone, and it terrifies me. Because somehow I ended up married at 20 to a man who loves me more than I’ve ever been loved before, well beyond what I deserve. And when I think of you I think of flowers for no reason, dancing with no music, and eyes that beg me to return their gaze. You are every girl’s happy ending, and of all the fair ladies out there you chose me to be your princess. These are things I think of when I think of you.

But when I think of us together, I think of me letting guys flirt with me at bars because I like the attention as I tell myself it’s okay as long as nothing happens. I think of me lying awake at two in the morning as you sleep soundly beside me wondering if there’s anything more than this. I think of telling you I want to take a trip somewhere new by myself for a while, and you shooting me down not understanding why I would want to go on a trip without you.

Your love overwhelms me until I feel suffocated by all of the longing and affection I have done nothing to earn. How do I look at the man I love, the man who chose me when I thought no one ever would, and explain the yearning in my soul to feel anonymous again. To be alone if only for a little while. How do I explain that setting me free just for as little as a week might be what saves us?

When I think of you, I think of my desire to be alone. And maybe alone is exactly how I should be.