Dear Physical Therapist,
I’ve always been told the first step to solving a problem is admitting that you have one.
(takes deep breath)
I have a (musculoskeletal) problem.
There. I said it. I’m 29, single, and in the prime years of my life — yet here I am again, feeling broken and writing about my sincere longing for some stability in my life.
It all started at the tender age of 12, when I fell head over heels…and tore my ACL. Since then, you’ve been in and out of my life for different reasons, and while I don’t want to dwell on the past, I have to get this off of my chest.
I could’ve been better to you, and for that, I owe you a sincere apology.
l’m sorry that I rarely stuck around long enough to give you a chance to show me how things could be. For lying about what I did when I wasn’t with you. For thinking that just showing up and paying for our dates was a substitute for the hard work and dedication that a relationship like ours requires. I was just scared. Scared that even if I did everything you wanted me to do, that I’d still end up leaving in the same condition as when we started and you’d forget all about me.
I’ve put myself out there for the last 17 years and I think I’m ready to finally commit, but before I do, I want to make sure that you understand where I’m coming from. You know, so that I don’t get hurt again.
I know what you’re going to say —
“Relationships are tough, and they take a lot of work from everyone involved.”
I agree, but hear me out for a minute.
When I’m with you, it’s almost always the same story. I feel like I’m finally going to be able to trust myself again, but as soon as we’re apart I start second guessing myself. I want — no, I need someone who doesn’t leave me waiting by the phone for weeks in between our “dates” or makes me send the first message to tell you how I’m feeling. Someone who makes me feel special when I walk in the door — after all, I’m the one doing all of the commuting, and I’m paying for our dates. I know you’re totally out of my league and know my body better than anyone, but sometimes I feel like that’s all I am to you...an ICD-10 code with an insurance provider.
And I get it, this is an open relationship and you’re seeing tons of other people, and you might even like some of them more than me. I know that we can’t be together forever, and I’ve come to terms with that. But can you please promise me something?
Promise me that if we do get back together, you won’t completely disappear until our next appointment. I swear I’m not trying to be clingy, but it would really put my mind at ease if I knew you weren’t going to forget about me in a few weeks. And I don’t want to feel needy for wanting you to ask me how I feel about you, I just want you to listen. I know you’re busy, but even an email during the week to let me know you‘re thinking about me would make my day. Who knows, if it doesn’t work out now, maybe you can check in with me in a few months to see if the timing is right for us to get back together? I think I’m ready for this, but I need to know that you’re willing to grow with me.
With love, respect, and admiration,