I wish we could have tried harder.
I wish it could have been the way we planned.
I wish we hadn’t said all the mean, crazy, stupid things we said.
I’m still not ready to talk to you. I don’t think I can right now.
You’d just end up yelling at me and calling me names, and
I’d end up feeling even more hurt and depressed than I already am.
Depression is something I’ve been dealing with for a long time.
It lays me out, and makes it impossible to function.
I need peace to function. I have to function, for the
Pea and me. But the last few months have been hard.
Not sure if you know that. Not even sure if you’d care if you knew.
But that’s why I didn’t answer when you called. Instead I just sort of froze up
when I saw your number and let it ring through on both phones. And then I cried. Because I wanted to hear your voice, so bad; but I knew you wouldn’t say
anything nice. The feelings are still there, I just can’t let you hurt me anymore. Because when I get sad like that, it hurts my family.
It makes me into a useless mess and I can’t do any of the million things
I’m supposed to do. I don’t know. I just feel like I’m not allowed to be
myself, or make mistakes. I have to accept your flaws and quirks and idiosyncrasies and all of your fears, but I’m not allowed to have any of my own. When I do, I get no reassurance or comfort from you.
And so you see, you left me with no other option. I had to let go and
try to forget. Let go, and hope you’d be OK.