Unsent Letter

For the life of me I failed to comprehend why you did the things you did. Why you were the way that you were. I never understood. But I caught you in a moment you considered to be utter weakness. In your weakness I saw utter humility. In your humbleness I saw humanity. A side of you I had never seen before, which you held back from me, from which was conceived a newfound love for you. You, with all your flaws and failings. I was honored to be the shoulder on which you cried. To hold you close while your body shook and trembled with sadness.
To you it was a burden. A death sentence. But the fact of the matter was, and still is, nothing could have been more beautiful. Your child; a glorious gift God had bestowed upon you. A precious existance worth continuing in life for. A beautiful daughter who had invaded my heart, through you. I envision myself as her mother. It was heartfelt and profound. Our new baby girl. Your flesh; your blood. I accepted her into my life with open arms and a heart wide open as if she were my own. I cherished her. And shared your love for your child. She was now a part of me as much as she was a part of you. My daughter with you. Our flesh; our blood. Our new daughter. And I understood.
But I was not to be part of her life. It was never in your plans.
Sharing ideas and thoughts on how to go about this new presence in your life, in my life, had become my mission on earth. I felt I was sent to you to light up the path and show you the way. Your plans to find a 'mate' took me by surprise. I hid my tears as you excitedly explained how everything was going to be alright; everything was going to be ok; just take it one step at a time; until you found the perfect woman who would understand and accept.
You looked right past me. I was there for you when you needed me. Always. I understood. And I accepted. We had our petty rifts and rows; the usual ups and downs. It was part of being in love. We shared a bond that prevailed all obstacles. We fought together, for each other. Until this.
This ordeal, you left me out of. I was to be a spectator. To lend a sympathetic ear. But never to be a proactive participant. The next chapter of your life you would share with someone other than me. It was expected of me. I held back my tears as you told me of other women in your life. And I never complained. To you I was merely that shoulder you cried on; the vessel that held you in grief. Merely a compassionate friend. Who shared your sorrow.
I felt inadequate. What was I missing, that other women could give you? What could you find in another woman, that you hadn't already found in me? Was I missing a limb? An eye? Did I not suffice?
I felt shame and guilt. I thought I must have been letting you down. Somehow.
You were lost to me.
But now you have lost me.
And I dont care to understand.