Room 607

I loved you with all my heart,with every cell of my body. From the very first moment I saw you, I knew—he is the one. The day I touched your hand, something awakened in me,something I had never felt before. I reminded that movie which said you understand if is “the one” when you touch his hand. I asked you to touch mine and tell me what you felt. You said you felt nothing. And my heart quietly broke.

I didn’t sleep with you—not because I didn’t want to, but because it never truly happened. I just couldn’t give myself in cars, in market toilets,in offices full of glass and eyes. I wanted us to be perfect and I can’t cheat my husband. I want hours together, no fear, no rush, no shame.

I am so shy next to you.You seemed so strong, so powerful,that I felt small and foolish beside you. And after I separated from my husband, I tried. And you rejected me. You never understood how much I loved you,how helpless I became near you. My head would spin, my breath would disappear, butterflies everywhere—I would shake even when I only called you. I forgot everything when I was with you:home, children, husband. Every day I rushed just to see you,because I could never have enough of you. I missed you desperately, all the time. Every evening I cried on my way home ,already missing you already dreading the distance. For two years, every single day, I waited for you to come and take me—to make me yours. Even as a mistress, I didn’t care anymore. But every day you went home to your wife—or another woman—and left me unseen. At first, I was ashamed. A married woman, begging for love. Later, I stopped caring. The pain had already stripped me bare. When you left on holidays with her, my heart shattered. Each time you said you were going away, it felt like a thousand knives passing through me at once. I was alone in that cold office,surrounded by cold people laughing at the foolish woman in love. I didn’t understand at first that you really wanted me too.Your attempts were so delicate that I never had time to respond. After months of waiting, you detached. Perhaps you grew tired. Perhaps you found another woman. Every morning you went to her. Every day was torture—worse than the one before. I said nothing. I waited for the absurd story to end, I asked you to end it. It never did.Meanwhile, I left my husband. I could no longer be with him.You were always in my mind,in my soul,in every thought .Then came another pain: you told others how I loved you,how I begged. You all laughed. That was the third wound. And then came the Christmas party. You danced and kissed your wife all night, while I stood alone—a single woman with three children, pretending to be strong, pretending to be happy. That was the loneliest holiday of my life. I stayed home, cried every night,watched TV, drunk. That was when the drinking began. It never truly stopped. My husband grew nervous, angry, he remained with us, didn’t move because I asked him to stay for a short while more. Then he started beating me. I didn’t complain. I believed I deserved it. Only when he touched the children did I find the strength to stop him. From the moment I fell for you,I stopped eating meat, trying to be stronger than temptation. I am religious. I called this love a trial, a sin, a test. I prayed constantly—almost without pause. One day, while we worked, that magnetic force returned between us. I hoped you would finally kiss me. Instead, the earth shook—an earthquake. I took it as a warning. Then came the signs:a monk who stopped me in the street,telling me not to divorce,telling my husband not to let me go. A dream where I was making love to you and you turned into a devil. A priest who said this suffering existed because my husband refused a fourth child. Crushed by daily pain, I decided to detach. You were never there for me—never asking how I was,never caring—yet feeding on my energy like a vampire. Every day I told myself :just a little longer, finish the project,then you will be free. When it ended, I pulled away. People began to talk.A manager even asked why we were no longer together. That’s when I realized the damage. So I withdrew completely, posted a couple’s photo, tried to rebuild my marriage from ruins. It worked—but never as before. As I left, I saw pain in your eyes. Part of me was glad you suffered a little—though nothing compared to my pain, my thousand knives. I buried myself in work. It helped me forget you. Sometimes I saw you again. Sometimes you said things that sounded like longing .I was surprised. I found balance. Peace. But the ache of missing you never left my heart. At Christmas, still hurt, I rejected your gift. Later, I regretted it and came to see you—only as friends,seeking peace.We hugged. That hug stayed inside me. It burned so deeply that my husband felt it immediately. He left. I didn’t stop him. It wasn’t fair anymore. Today, I came to tell you I am single again, that I am yours—because despite prayers, fasting, distance, hate,nothing erased you. But you rejected me. You called me unstable. I tried everything to remove you from my heart. Nothing worked. Now I know: you cannot remove a part of your soul. I love you more than life itself. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. I am slowly fading without you. Even a short phone call with you is relief for my tortured soul. If one day you hear that I am gone, know this:my last word was your name. Until then,when my youngest turns eighteen, I will go and live in a monastery.

Yours forever,

F