Teddy Bear Guardian

Hello, my former husband! You probably never read this letter, and that hardly matterseverything has already been said. Over the years I look back on our youthful years with a completely different perspective.

Its been twenty years since we officially divorced. I can still picture that day in London: the judge urged us to think carefully, not to rush our decision, especially because we have a fourteenyearold daughter. I was adamant. Lets get us out of each others lives as soon as possible! I told him. You stayed silent, either agreeing or holding fast to your own opinion.

From that moment the family stopped existing. Our lives ran side by side like parallel tracks. We became strangers and stopped speaking altogether. Why bother? There was nothing left to share. Then theres our daughter, Poppy, who still wonders why Mum and Dad are no longer together. There were never any shouting matches or broken promises; we lived happily, laughing together, basking in a quiet joy.

You never declared love to me out loud, but it never needed to be spoken. Your love lived in your eyes and in your deeds. You always gave extraordinary presents, each souvenir carrying a hidden meaning. I remember New Years Eve when you hung a funny plush angel on the Christmas treewhere youd found that odd little thing, I never asked. As the clock struck midnight you said, May this little angel be a symbol of our love! That tiny figure hung above the front door for every subsequent year, moving from the door to the tree each New Year, as if guarding our happiness. In hindsight, it clearly didnt.

I fell in love without looking back, a passion as fierce as a hurricane, a dark fire that swept everything in its path. It felt like a demonic enchantment. My lover was married, with two daughters of his own. We crossed every line, ignored everyoneour children, his wife, my exhusbandall suffered terribly, yet we, consumed by sin, saw nothing but the blaze of our desire.

Six months into that madness, I finally saw the light. My God! We were simply different peoplelike night and day. What had I done? The same dream haunted me night after night: I tried to enter my house, but it was surrounded by a thick, sucking mud. The more I struggled, the deeper the mire pulled me, and the house drifted farther away.

As I clawed my way out of that abyss, you had already built a new family. I understand and I dont judge. Everyone craves love, stability and peace. Much water has flowed since then. Youth, a daughter, a granddaughterthose are the only things we still share, Ian. Is that not enough? Our destinies have simply taken different roads.

New Years Eve is approaching again. Ill hang our plush angel on the tree once more; its held up well after all these years. Only its wings have fallen off.