This email isn't about him, it's about you. It's about us…or what's left of us.

I'm pretty sure that anchors in a relationship are a good thing. When I hear about "anchors" in a relationship, I think of someone who's stable. One person keeps the other grounded. They're a safe place, a confidant, someone to trust. I feel like that's you, or that's supposed to be you, but it…kind of isn't.

It's not like you're a bad guy, you're very nice. It's easy to spend time with you, it's easy to talk to you, it's all so easy. And I don't hate that. Easy is nice, easy is stress-free. And in reality, everything being easy for us should be the best thing ever!

And yet, here I am, lamenting that it isn't.

I'm supposed to be honest in these emails, to just express what's on my mind in an "unfiltered" way. And when I think about you, about our relationship, I don't feel the way I'm supposed to.

I've talked to Dr. Collins about it. There's this…emptiness that I have for you. It's not that I don't love you…well, I don't, but I don't not love you. I definitely like you, and I like some things about you: how handsome you are, how polite you are, how stable you are. All these things are appealing to me, they really are. Any woman would kill to find a guy like you, someone that's just so close to being perfect.

Meh.

That's how I feel about you. I feel meh. I said as much to Dr. Collins. It's kind of rude to say, but I had to be honest about it. I pointed out your good qualities, everything I listed before, and I thought it was enough. I wanted it to be enough, but I can't force myself to love someone.

There are so many reasons I feel the way I do.

I told Dr. Collins there was a lack of substance with us. I didn't explain what I meant by that, but he probably knew anyway. I've sat with myself for a bit since that initial appointment, trying to figure out what "substance" I'm talking about.

You're nice, you're loyal, you're grounded. Great traits on the surface. You've put in some effort to get into my interests, dropping by the gallery and trying to talk about art. I really liked that, but it's just…not enough. A pretty face and basic decency is not enough. I like you because you're pretty and nice…and that's it. I couldn't name anything else about you I really "loved." Everything with us is super casual, super surface-level. I guess I'd call you my friend, but you never really were that.

Everything about us is shallow.

That sounds so dismissive, I know, but it's the truth. You are a good guy, Rory, you are. But you're not for me. All the effort in the world won't change that fact. We don't really have a connection, we never really bonded, and now that I think about it, that's the "substance" that's missing.

I feel so bad about this. You're so good, and I keep saying that. I know it's true, or at least I think it's true. I'm not sure anymore, and part of me is scared to say something. You're kind of my first serious relationship, and you're definitely my first major relationship as an adult. It should be a big deal, and I should feel something deeper for it…but I don't.

Does this make me a bad person?

I mean, I thought I liked you like that when we met. It was a crazy situation when we met, with me being arrested for a crime I didn't commit, and you gave me a bit of a reprieve with the soda. It was so stressful, but things ended up turning out okay. Thank goodness Oz Haggerty testified!

And I'm thankful for you too.

I know it was hard for you. You liked me and you had to do your job at the same time, staying impartial and true to the evidence. Trust me, I get it. But it all worked out and now we're a couple. Or we should be…if not for the elephant in the room.

It's not just the lack of substance that plagues us. There's a lot more, and I'm still working through all of it. But there's one other thing I can pinpoint as a problem.

This relationship isn't just two people. There's someone else.

Reading that line makes it sound like I'm cheating on you. I wish I could type something else that didn't sound so…scandalous, but then I wouldn't be honest about it. I'm not cheating, I don't think I am, but I can't deny this any longer.

And I can't bring myself to type his name. Like I said, this email isn't about him. I won't make it about him.

The last email I wrote was about him, and when I go back and read it, I feel myself crumble a bit. I told Dr. Collins that I had feelings for someone else and I couldn't tell him who it was. I knew he'd keep it secret, that it would stay in his office and wouldn't ever come out, but I stayed quiet. In that email, it just seems like I came out and said it without really "saying" it. But I won't say it here.

Things haven't really felt the same since that appointment. I used to smile a bit and feel happy when you'd text or call, but now I just feel so depressed and empty. I used to take a bit of joy in spending time with you, but now I just wish I was anywhere else. And I think you've picked up on it.

I'm not sure what switch flipped inside of you, but it's like you've gotten more…tough? You're still polite, but when you sense something's off, you change. You get cold and stiff. I can't read your mind, so I don't know if it has to do with me or not. I'm worried it'll get worse.

There have been so many times where I want to open my mouth and talk things out, but I just shut down. Maybe it's my nerves, maybe it's your change in behavior, maybe it's kind of both, but this can't keep going on, not with his release date coming closer.

…Looks like I have something to talk to Dr. Collins about when I see him next.

In the end, this email is about you, and now that I've read all of this mess over, all I can come up with is that you're nice. This email is about us and what's left of it, but there really can't be much left if there wasn't much to begin with.