I know how you feel. You are like a mirror to me, the way you look at him as though only I do. He is unaware of you. But I know you, I see you every day, and I know your struggles. I know who you think of while you quell yourself to sleep. You are familiar to me, as myself when I first met him. I trust you, because you are like me. I know you will not, and we will leave it so. But I know in your friendship lives love, and in your words lie longing. The same longing I used to know. I understand you, and you are unaware of my connection to you. Because you hide it well, like a bead of water hiding in the clouds. I will not ward you, because your feelings are truth, and I know you will never stray from them. Know that I am the least of your worries, it is his love for me that truly begets you dismay. But I will not mislead you, I want you this way. Every day he ignores his love for you, I know with me he’ll stay. I would never keep you apart. I know I have no worries with you, because your heart is filled with truth, and love, as is mine, and you would not see him torn apart by a broken love. Almost as if we are twins, I can read you, all your motions, and all your wordless thoughts, through those beautiful eyes. I know you don’t know I know this, but I do. Maybe one day if for worse should come, and death should do us part, I know you will care for him just as I would. Just as I do. I know I could never tell you this, and no one would ever understand, but I love you for loving him. For reminding me everyday how lucky I am, and for reassuring me of his faithfulness. For allowing me to see just how I was in the beginning, so that I never forget us, never forget myself, and never lose our love. Everyday when I look at you, I almost see my own reflection, and though you are a part of our lives, and a great friend you have been to us for many years, I can still never reveal to you this one darkest truth. The truth that I think you are meant for him, and he is meant for you. The truth that we share our love for him, and I know, no matter how he denies it, that he loves you, as he loves me. I can never tell you that I am glad you are in his life, and how secure it makes me feel that even if I should perish, he would never be alone, that he would always have you, and through you, he would always have me. This realization fills me with a joy that I fear no other woman would ever understand, or permit, but I cannot deny you him, or him, you. You are meant to be, one day. He does not yet realize that this unselfish love that I have allowed, that I have created, will maybe one day cradle him like so many years ago the bosom of his first love, his mother. One day maybe I will come to you, and tell you of how I have always known of your love for him. But how could I ever tell you, how could I touch you with my words, I know I hurt you every time his lips touch mine, every time it is our bed he returns to. But I want so desperately to tell you, and to thank you for keeping my love, and my lover young. But my words would touch you as my finger would touch my reflection in a spotless pond, and distort you, twist you. Your love for him is pure because I know you would never share him, and because you value his purity, you don’t expect me to either. But I wish I could tell you that I don’t feel like that is the case, I wish I could tell you that we are one, you and I, and that when he touches me, I know he secretly touches you too. And I want to tell you that whenever he kisses me, I am secretly saving it for you. Even though I know we might never have this conversation, I wish I could tell you that he is already yours, that I have already begun to share him with you. I do this because it makes you happy, and in turn him, and me. I do it because I love you too. I love you like I love myself. I cannot feel any other way about you. You are my best friend and will always share with me what is closest to my heart. Because I love you as myself, I want you to be happy, the way only he can make you. I do all this because it is good for him, and it is good for you. I never wanted you to be alone, and I know you will never find a man better than he could be to you, the way he has always been to me. But until this day should come, and I reveal to you my secret, I must keep my silence, and preserve this work of renaissance the way it is meant to be. Beautiful, but only meant to be seen, and not tampered with. But if one day you should ever come to me, or him, and confess your secret, I will in turn give you mine. I somehow wish that you would. I just don’t understand what this feeling is that I have and am afraid no one else would either. But I love you, I love, him, I love us.

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