In this business, it’s easy to forget that the heartbreak that relationships can bring. This week, we invited a guest blogger in, to write the letter she never got to send to the partner she always wished she’d saved. It’s powerful stuff!


I almost didn’t write this. We agreed on not talking for a while, and I wanted to respect that. But I also feel like it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t tell you that things are not the same for me, and that the possibility of us being together is a little different now. But before that, a short apology. I shouldn’t have pressured you into so many difficult situations and I shouldn’t have been so overprotective of you. You need to make your own decisions and I respect that. I respect you. When we were talking about moving in and jobs and career and the future, none of it was ever meant to be about rushing or “you must do this, you must do that >:(“ I wanted to help you make your own decisions and give you guidance when you asked, not to make everything so bloody serious and high pressured. After all, relationships are meant to be enjoyable and supportive.


I get that now. I have the fire back and I’m actually living again. Living with the kind of intensity, beauty and passion that makes my heart and my mind sing. I’ve realised that I want to take pride in my appearance, my body and myself, not because of what others think but because I truly have respect for myself as a person. I can see why things were worth fighting for again, and why sometimes you need to lay down your weapons and just embrace happiness. That I can be special, that I can make a difference and not have to martyr myself for it. That I can be young and free and reckless. I have plenty of time to be stuffy and ultra responsible later. I’m 24. Now is the time for chilling in the sun on some remote Greek Island, buying a fish (I took a risk, ate some fish and hey! it was pretty good!) fresh off a little painted boat for dinner and cooking it over coals. For going out and seeing the city, the world and not just hordeing money because I was oh so sensible. For long nights of wild love and for passion in all things.


For honesty’s sake, I am seeing someone incredible casually. This isn’t not some brag, I don’t want to hurt you or make you jealous. Make no mistake. I have not been intimate with her and I almost certainly won’t be, that’s not why i’m telling you this. It’s about me finally remembering that if the spark of temptation should hit us, the days of nervous hands and worrying about if this would work are over. That I know we can get caught up again in tempest of passion that make you long to feel me pressed up against you again, our bodies caught up in a exhilarating, dangerous dance of emotion. I remember how good I can be at things, how to use my hands, my body, my eyes, my words. That every soft touch and whispered word can be a siren call, every kiss a promise of something more.


Perhaps more importantly, although the excitement and the rush so far is good, (as I’m sure you can relate to), there’s something lacking at its core, a trust and a bond built up over years that can’t truly be replaced. I’m sure seeing her would feel good for me, I’m sure it would be great, I’m sure that for a few months, maybe even until the summer came, I would get swept off my feet and feel like she was a breath of fresh air. But that isn’t because of her, it’s because she’s something new. And one day all too soon it will flicker, and the two idealised versions of the people enjoying it, that have been having this fantasy, will have to become people again, with flaws and faults and effort. And so the honeymoon will be over, and I’ll realise that initial high I was chasing is a fleeting one, an illusion, always chasing that elusive idea that the grass will always be greener.


Which again, is why I’m writing. I’ve got to see the right things in you, to know that we are both willing to go out and truly enjoy life. Not the Susanna who hides from her fears, who doesn’t trust enough and lets herself become isolated, the Susanna who would let doubt and insecurity run her life and rob her of her potential. That is not the Susanna I saw a few weeks ago, and it’s not the girl I fell in love with and still love. I’m sure she’s still in there, I’ve seen her trying to get out, in those moments when your face softens and you’re nothing but kindness and warmth. So let it get out. The Susanna I know is there, and the one I want is the one that can have fun, have confidence in herself and be ready to be truly alive. The girl who you always hoped you could be. It doesn’t mean you have to be perfect, it doesn’t mean you can’t hurt or have moments of weakness. I will always be there for you during those. But what it does mean is that you can’t let those moments define who you are, as we both have done far too often for some time.


Which is why I’m going to ask you to meet me before you make your final decision, on that last weekend in January. To recognise that we were both bored and needed change and that’s what this can be. A chance to grow and understand ourselves and one another, a chance to do something new without throwing away the good things we had before. To see me, and truly understand that I’m done with broken promises, that together we can be daring, free and passionate. That most of all, we can truly be happy.