One Hundred and Sixty One

A letter I won't send
that you wouldn't have read anyway.

There are two things I genuinely want for you.

The first
to be incandescently happy.
I do, I want you to be loved. I want you to be put first. I want you to be cared for, and cherished. I want you to be reassured and listened to, and protected. I want you to be safe. I do.
And kids. I want you to be healthy enough to get pregnant, and have all five of those kids. I want you to have that blue picket fence, those white windowsills. I want you to have that womens' sewing circle on Sunday. And I want you to live a long, happy, healthy life.

And secondly
to have this life
far
far away from me.
I want you to reach a point in your life where you can be mature enough to be civil but never have a need for me in your life, never want me back, never want me to call, never imagine yourself in my arms. Never pine, never want, never need what you're never going to have again.