Letter to my Wolf

I have been having a rough couple of days.  Between the Wolf being on HTLA without me, and a few other things ... I am having a hard time staying positive.  A lot of people, including some of the Wolf's family, are telling me to stay strong, that he needs me to be his rock, his safe place; he needs me to prove that I am not the other women in his life, that he can trust me to be here ... but how long can you go without positive feedback and encouragement?  They say to wait until the end of summer when he returns ... but by the time he does come home, who will I be?  Will I have lost myself?  How much longer can I stay like this, grasping at crumbs he may drop me, followed by weeks of pushing me away?

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That was not the introduction I intended to write, but it is what poured out, and I am going to leave it there ...

I wrote the letter below to the Wolf just now.  I haven't mailed it yet, and am not sure if I will ...

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I am not sending this to you to provoke a reaction, to make you feel bad, or to elicit any sort or promise or response. While I hope you actually read it, I know I have no control over that. I am sending it because I felt I needed to say these things, to be true to myself.



A year ago was in (the states) with you, and finished falling in love with you. The next step in a relationship that had been building its foundation for over 20 years. We had a great week, I thought. We were good together. We talked about the future, made plans. You even made me go into a jewelry store with you to tell you what I liked and what I didn’t. A year ago we were excited about the future, the possibilities, and exploring them together.


Five months ago you dropped a bomb on me. We had talked the night before about the things we were going to do while I was out (at your base) with you. You started the conversation on Monday night by telling me you had leave to burn up, that you could spend the whole week with me. Then, within 5 minutes, you were telling me you didn’t want me to come out and see you before you left. You said not only you didn’t love me, you never had. You said that when you talked about a future with me you must have been drunk.


I almost let that destroy me. I spent a lot of time in a very bad place, mentally. But with time, a lot of work, support of good people, and a lot of reflection, I think I am back to a place where I will be OK, no matter what happens.

Through it all, I have continued to love you like I have loved no one else in my life.

A lot has happened in the past year, and as I write this you are (on HTLA) , hopefully having a wonderful time, and also maybe finding some peace, and a chance to think about your life, and what you want from it.

I will continue to love you with all my heart. I may get hurt, but I will be true to who I am. I have spent too long in my life living up to the expectations of others, doing what other people want me to do. This is who I am, and I will honour it.

I kept saying to you that I needed to know I occur to you. I see know that the gifts you bought me, the things I so ungraciously always accepted, meant that I did occur to you. I am sorry for how I always reacted to the gifts.

You say you are zen and you live in the moment, but you push me away because of “what ifs” far off in the future. You say you live in the moment and don’t borrow trouble or worry about things that “might” happen, and then you shut me out to avoid “potential drama”, and me “waking up 2 or 3 years from now and realizing I’ve wasted all this time”.   You say I am different from the other women in your life, yet still punish me for things they have done to you.

You told me you didn’t do the “typical” pre-deployment pull away that the literature warns about, but you emotionally discarded me before you left. And that’s what hurts the most. I can accept that you are physically far away from me, that you have limited access to communication. But the distance you have created between us mentally and emotionally is what has hurt me so much, what nags at the corners of my brain when I can’t sleep.

You will understand if I am confused sometimes by your words, and choose to look at your actions instead. And you actions tell me that you did love me, that you do care for me, and that there is still hope.

The thinking, the meditating, and the work I have done since you “dropped your bomb” on me the end of September have all led me to the same conclusion – we have a strong foundation, and I believe we can work through what has happened and build “us” up again. I honestly do.

I was seriously messed up by what happened at the end of September, but it forced me to take a step back and take a good long hard look at myself and my own actions. Part of that good hard look involved professional therapy. I freely admit I have some issues of my own, but I am working on them, and I don’t believe that they are insurmountable.

You told me in October that this was not about another woman; that it was about things you needed to work through for yourself. You didn’t, and haven’t, made me any promises about anything in the future, but you haven’t ruled out the possibility either, and neither have I. We did agree that if we found ourselves attracted to anyone we would let each other know. I just want to let you know that I am still committed to you; I honestly cannot see myself with anyone else. I felt with you something I had never felt before with anyone else I had been involved with. I honestly cannot imagine myself with anyone else. And it wouldn’t be fair to anyone else to only give them a small part of my heart, when it really still belongs to you – I would be living a lie.

I am still open to, and quite honestly hoping for, reconciliation, and a chance to try to re-build a relationship with you that goes beyond friendship.

I am still wearing the ring you gave me.


I worry about you. As I told you, I cannot turn off my concern for you simply because you tell me you don’t have feelings for me. I don’t worry so much about your physical safety, but I am concerned about … the peacefulness of your soul, your heart. I don’t know how to put in into words well.

I miss you. I miss you in the physical sense, but I was prepared to deal with that, and knew I would be OK. I miss you emotionally, and mentally; knowing you are there for me, the security of knowing that you care for me. Knowing that you had my back. I miss the reality of “us”, the security it gave me, the peace and the happiness it brought me. There are times I feel it still, I KNOW it is still there …

The door stays open.