The End

F,

When I was in Ireland last month, I had an overwhelming feeling you missed me. And the sensation was so pure and surprising I thought I would write you when I returned.  I know my note about your retirement was silly,  but it masked my acknowledgement of that feeling, whether it was true or not.

Like you, I will always value Amsterdam.  The truth is that being in the room with you transformed me.  It made me whole, stronger, and it changed my life. I think when it happened I resented your desire to bury our affections in that hotel and only speak of that room as if all our possibilities died there.  And I also think I stuck it out with you not only because I loved you but because I thought you would eventually set that room free to see where our feelings would lead, but I know now you are a man of moments, and that is the only way you can live your life.

I also know that what we once had was real, even if my resentment of it was based on my expectations.  See, I’ve always been the strength behind the strength of powerful men, whether he is running his father’s company or the United Nations. These relationships might last weeks, months or years but they are always about me giving something of myself to make these men stronger or to heal them altogether, whether it’s listening to the oil broker who lost his favorite son to a brain tumor or helping the diplomat get over a cheating wife. Yet when I met you I thought it was for a life time.  But really you were only intended to “slay my dragons,” and that was the most amazing part of what we once had.

Thanks for reminding me that great men and great love never die.

Please don’t write again. I know I will one day read about you and the amazing things you’ve accomplished in Denmark, and it will make me smile.

B