Something I still can’t believe.

People end affairs all the time. They look at what they’ve done, and they stop.

The whole time, I wasn’t allowed to talk or ask questions.

You never explained why.

I was terrified—like if I sent a single text, I’d get a restraining order.

Which is strange, because I was a phenomenal friend to both you and Tish.

For years. Unimaginably kind. Your best friend.

To me, your friendship was life affirming.

You were someone familiar, radiating love and protection and support.

You never ended the relationship. You never said it was done.

You left. And honestly, I didn’t know what the truth was—because, if you recall, a conversation was never granted.

For a long time, I believed I was the one in the wrong. So I held on to the idea that you still cared about me—as the friend I’d always tried to be.

I still don’t know if the way things collapsed between us stirred anything in you—any sorrow, guilt, or anything at all.

You partied. You disappeared into that outside relationship. You laughed at me. Looked through me. Smirked. At one point, you even mocked my depression.

I suffered so much.

No one had ever gone no contact on me before. I didn’t understand why—I was left in the dark, utterly confused, ashamed, and alone.

Kendra,

I care about you. And I’m still hurting.

I can’t believe any of this. I’m mad—mad at how it all unfolded.

Mad at you.

I’ve looked at myself. I made a mistake—I sure did.

But let’s be absolutely clear about one thing:

That outside relationship is straight out of garbage cans.

Relationships that begin when someone’s partner leaves town—those are called affairs.

Relationships that exist almost entirely in private—those are called affairs.

Relationships built on lies—those are called affairs.

Relationships that burn down lives—those are called affairs.

Watching it all unfold—from the outside, in silence—I kept wondering: where did you go?

I swear I don’t recognize you.

Because the person who did this—this calculated, multi-pronged betrayal—is not the person I knew.

You, who were once a warm and gentle presence,

You, who I trusted more than anyone I ever knew,

did something cruel. Something cold. Something I still can’t believe.

The harm this caused is hard to put into words—it’s enormous.

I was a phenomenal fucking friend to both you and Tish.

This affair was horrible from the start.

And honestly, I hate to think about what you might’ve told your parents about me—

just so you could play muse to someone else’s husband.

But Kendra—people end affairs all the time. They look at what they’ve done, and they stop.

Not because it’s easy. Not because it erases the harm.

But because they want to live honestly. Because they remember who they are.

Maybe, if ever there’s a time we can meet each other again—with our shadows and in our truth—something honest could begin.

I don’t expect that day to come.

But I didn’t let this turn me cruel. I didn’t hide, and I didn’t lie.

I stood taller. And I’ll listen, if ever you want to speak again.