She was the most beautiful, s***, perfect person I ever knew and I fell for her instantly. We married in 1987 and had a child together.

By 1989, she was secretly addicted to cocaine, had blown our savings, and was s******* involved with her dealer. When it all came to light, I was devastated, and left her.

We moved on with our lives. She ran out of resources, got off the drugs, met another man, and had two kids with him. After about 15 years with him, she had an affair with another man, they were found out, and she moved on again with the new man. They married almost 2 years ago, and seem fairly happy, though he’s a serious drunk and can’t hold a job to save his life.

Several years passed after I left her before I really felt comfortable even dating again. Eventually, I met someone I thought could be my partner in life and married again. A few years later, I found out she was having an affair, and left her as well. That was 12 years ago, and I’ve rarely even dated anyone since, and certainly never felt serious about anyone again.

But the thing is, in all the time since I left the first one, I never stopped loving her. I was mad as hell at her when I left, but loved her with all my heart just the same. That’s why it hurt me so much – because I cared so much.

I forgave her for all that I left her for so many years ago that those transgressions are only a distant memory, no more important in any way to me. They were a lifetime ago. And now all that’s left is that intense love for her that I felt, and still feel. I think about her every day, all throughout the day, as I have since the day we met, 27 years ago. Not a single day or night goes by that I don’t think about her, and how much I still love her.

We’ve kept in touch all these years because of the child we have together; A child who’s now grown, and so we now have two grandchildren we dote on. And it is the absolute highlight of my life every time we end up in the same room with one another, as it has been for all the years I’ve known her. We smile and exchange pleasantries, as we have always done since we separated.

I thought I’d get over her, especially if I got married again. I thought I’d truly move on. But it never happened. I never figured out how to do that. I never stopped loving her with all my heart, and now, after all these years, I know without a doubt that she was truly “the one”. I know I’m going to feel this way for the rest of my life, and I’m pretty sure she will be the last thing that goes through my mind as I die. I’ve no interest at all in trying to find love anywhere else. People that know me mistake it for simple apathy, but miss the real reason behind it, which is just the opposite of apathy: intense and unrelenting love for someone I cannot have.

I thought that over the years, as we got older, she’d become less physically attractive, and that would make it easier to move on. Truly, she’s put on weight and she sags where her youth has left her, and her skin has wrinkles and has lost its youthful appearance and her long, beautiful, jet black hair is now short and nearly white. And yet, somehow, she still looks just as beautiful and s*** to me now as she ever did. I didn’t expect that.

Looking back, I wish more than anything that I’d done more to try to hold us together when I had the chance. I wish I hadn’t left her. I wish I’d have toughed it out, moved us away from the drugs and the dealer, from the temptations that wrecked us, and started us over together, given her more of what she really needed to fill the hole in her life that she was plugging with drugs and infidelity. I wish I’d done something, anything. I feel like I failed her in that regard, that I failed us.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I always thought that somehow we’d end up back together, and I wanted so badly for that to happen. But it never did happen, despite the dozens of feeble efforts I made over the years to let her know that’s how I felt.

I’ve come to believe that there really is such a thing as true love and having one true love. I love her and miss her every single day. I still think of her as my wife. My beautiful wife. And there is seemingly nothing, not a thing, that I can do about it. I just have to live with it.