Day: March 15, 2021

Thank you.

I miss you.

That’s all.

I’m getting comfortable with crying at my desk, going to the restroom to clean up my mascara, and getting back to work as if nothing happened. I am trying to do the right thing but the right thing is killing me. I wish God would just fill up the emptiness with something else. Anything else. Make me satisfied with this. God, is this what you want for me? I am trying so hard to be grateful for all that I have. I know you have given me more than I deserve but this part is destroying me. Everyday I feel emptier. I can’t be who I need to be. Who I know I am supposed to be. This isn’t who you wanted me to be. I know you want me to do something else but I don’t see how I can do both at the same time. I don’t see why you would allow me to be in a situation that is driving me further from where I should be. And if this is where I should be, why? Why do you have me here? This is so painful. Is that all I am? A martyr? To give me so much hope and joy in my heart hut allow me to remain in a situation that steals it everyday for the rest of my life? I’m so angry and hurt but more angry and hurt by the fact that I am angry and hurt. I don’t want to feel this way. You know my heart and if I could accept it you know I would. I’ve been trying for 15 years. I’ve shouldered this on my own but nothing is changing. I just grow more weary. Where are you??

K
After seeing my mother in her care facility today it dawned on me how our similar situations in that were what made us toxic in the first place.

For me a big part of my acceptance, adjustment and mental well being, after her stroke; was talking about the good and the bad times with someone who was going though a similar situation. I honestly didn’t understand at the time how much talking about her slow yet steady recovery. Constantly reminded you on how your mother will never be the same again and is progressively getting worse. I get that; I understand that now.

The pain that comes from revelation is you resented me for that. The worst part is I did nothing wrong to deserve that resentment. You above all people should at least understand that just because my mother is doing better doesn’t mean its any less painful to see her, it dosn’t change the depression and the heartbreak of knowing that she’s never going to be the same; and her bad days just makes everything so much worse.

I’m no saint, yes I did make my mistakes and I played my hand in what ultimately lead to our final down fall…mostly out of the pain of what you did to me out of what came from your unjust resentment.

If you hate me that’s fine all I ask is you hate and resent me for what I’m accountable for…and not for the shit that you know for a fact isn’t my fault.

A

Snowed in with what the media has hyped up to be the storm of decades with my kid. We’ve been working on counting change and she’s been doing great, it had me wondering what the full scope of influence this might have on thought processes , speech orientation, and deductive/ predictive reasoning . I enjoy that she gives me things I hadn’t considered before to ponder on.

Her father’s work got him a hotel room close to work with another guy so they could make their shift today, but looking at the white out conditions outside and the vehicle barren 285, I’m wary it might be more than one night . Grateful my ma swooped in a week before with a massive cache of food I was able to share with some local friends. The powers still on, and generous hands work continuously to clear the pathways to make things easier when the storm lightens up.

We ordered Raya and the Last Dragon last night to make a cozy night in. It’s all about the attempt to craft a unified social collective through trust, and at it’s respective points had both of us weeping. It is a sweet but challenging sentiment when she tells me she doesn’t want me to die and that I’ll live forever. I suspect this has something to do with me trying to teach her the emergency phone numbers for just in case.

If it is to you, I suggest you move to safety.

The Nuclear Winter voice of Zax broadcasts as the fire moves in.

I reckon at this point that’s how I interpret the actions of those who thought leaving me to my own devices in pursuit of their own goals and opportunities.

Perhaps somewhere along my path I gave a similar impression to a few. I would say that’s not exactly true so much as conditions no longer provided a homeostasis that allowed for healthy, sustainable thought processes.

A girl who I considered friend once told me that her and a fella I was keen on had plotted an entire sequence of events on me…for what? To teach me a lesson? For sport? That’s some 1999 Cruel Intentions with Reese Witherspoon, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Ryan Phillipe type shit. And every time she drank, she would go back to this space of discussion but when she’s sober it’s all generosity and invitations to events in company that seem kind.

How do you respond to someone laying that on you? I’d attempt to shrug it off, there were aspects of this person that I found had heroic qualities when I needed them but if I place these interactions on a scale the heaviness of having my own insecurities used against me makes me a sad girl.

What makes a friend friendly?

You totally deserved it.

Dad,
This very simply is a letter I’ll never send because it’ll never again have an address to send it to. The letter would never get to be received by you. You are gone. You’ve been gone for three years and there are three years of letters I’d like to send to you. One letter for every day you’ve missed so far and one extra just for good measure. I’d also like to write you a letter for your last day you spent because if I had known it was your last day… there’s so much I would have said. I would have looked you in the eye and tried to find it in my core to forgive you. I would have summoned all the courage I had to tell you that I knew what you had done and that I forgave you anyways. I would have written you such a letter that you wouldn’t have known what to do with it. I don’t. I don’t know what to do with the letter I never sent. I don’t know what to do with the letter I never will send. There’s a hole in my world where you used to be and as hard as I try I don’t think I could ever write enough letter that would explain what you meant to me. You meant so many different things. You were my hero, my idol, my dream, but you were also my warning, my monster, my nightmare. You ruined things as quickly as you created them and the worst part is I don’t even think you saw it. You always told me how smart I was and how I was so like you but you couldn’t even see that I knew everything I knew. This letter honestly has no point, because it is being written to a dead man that wouldn’t recognize the point if it was staring at him for twenty years dressed in jeans and a leather jacket holding a letter that the point would never send.

Dear A,

I honestly don’t know how to start this. There’s too much to say and at the same time, nothing. And I’ll use our 2nd language so it isn’t too obvious. Jk.

I can’t sleep tonight. Maybe I’m lonely, idk. Most of the nights, I’m alone and I’m pretty much okay with it. I think you know that I love it, spending time by myself. But you know what, it sometimes does feel lonely. I wanna talk to someone about everything under the sun, I wanna hug someone until we feel asleep, I want those forehead kisses, I want to listen and to vent to someone about my day- about how fun or even how stressful it is, I want to know that someone will care for and love me no matter what happens. And what sucks is, I want it to be you…

I’ve talked to guys like you (I was always joking about the category/profession, as ours do match they say). I’ve had some “almost lovers” or “almost relationships”, and you know it. Maybe even at the start of those few months, I know that it will never work. I did told you that. But what’s crazy is, out of all those “Almosts”, you’re the one I wanna build something real with. But I was scared, as always. I miss that smile, your voice and how you make me feel. You have offered me those things that I want, a serious relationship, but ofc, I was scared. The maturity always gets me, you’re older. So I thought you know what you’re dealing and just what to do. I’m both right and wrong.

I still can’t say that it was genuine tbh. But I can feel it can be. I’ve had my walls and you do, too. Maybe I was waiting for you break yours first and to be patient with me. The thing is, I was starting to break it down, slowly. I did hope you have waited for it. Well, you never did. You left. Without saying anything. The last time we’ve messaged, it was okay. No indication that you’ll stop. And it hurts. It really does. Getting over you takes a lot more time than the time that we’ve been talking. It’s crazy. I don’t deserve it. You don’t, too.

You don’t deserve someone who pushes you away and is scared of opening up and committing. I don’t deserve someone who isn’t patient (because Love is patient). I don’t deserve someone who will leave me just like that. Without saying a word. I honestly think that we could be something. Up to now I still do. That maybe while I was trying to move on, you’ll come back, and love me, truthfully.

If that isn’t happening, you know it, I’m a well-wisher. I wish you all the best. I hope you are happy. I know I will be. For now, keep sailing (My almost) Sailor! Thank you for the memories. x

Dear Husband,
I like to say I speak the truth. And, to my credit, once upon a time I did just that. But with you the truth became too ugly for me to speak.
You lie. You lie constantly and without guilt. I used to think it was a defense to cover your tender hearts pain. But no, that too was a lie. Or, was it?
The truth is, we both lied so much that neither of us can say with any certainty just who the other is.
We’ve been married for over 11 years now and that I don’t know you is the best compliment I could give.
I’ve hated you and hated me. I blamed and took the blame. I pretended not to understand, and then I didn’t for real.
I’ve been through the worst neigh orhoods hell has to offer and survived some really fucked up shit. It took me just as long to recover from us as it did to recover from that.
The truth is, I never wanted you, but I was afraid to be alone. And you seemed to know souch about gentleness and sorrow and love. And I really wanted to know these things too.
I knew you were weak and clingy and that you used your inability to control your emotions as an excuse and a weapon. But I didn’t care. Those things couldn’t hurt me.
I didn’t understand how much pain there was already inside me and how much I truly needed someone to understand.
Instead, you took my aloofness as a challenge, you took my experience as direct affront, and you took my strength and passion as assaults against you.
You used long practiced techniques to torture and cut me off from everyone and everything so that o ly your Word would be needed to prove you right.
And I lied about my feeling and my past because you didn’t get to use my real pain against me. The lies you used were bad enough.
And I was lost, and alone, and afraid and empty and you made it so much worse.
Then, I twisted it all, like only I can. I became everything for real that you said you wanted me to be. It was funny watching you try to pass off all those same complaints about me that were obviously no longer valid. And still you wouldn’t stop. So dead set on out doing me.
So you cheated and you lied and you raped and you played dangerous games that had no meaning other than becoming experiences that you could use to meet me on level ground.
Except they weren’t.
You never understood and still don’t. That’s OK. I jo longer want you to. I want you to stay weak and wrong. That makes it so much easier for me.
And you told me you don’t focus on those girls because you want to fuck them, you’re helping them.
Helping them what?
And you complain that I won’t allow you to teach me anything. You taught me plenty. You taught me that lying truly is the best way to fail. You taught me exactly what I don’t want in a man. You taught me all the worst parts of myself and now I know how to avoid them. Thank you for that.
You taught me that no one cares and I will always give far more than I receive. And you taught me me how to say no and not feel guilty.
You hate that one.
I don’t.
The time has come for me to divorce you. I really am amazed we lasted this long. I get we mostly succeeded because we lived so long apart.
I believed until just recently that you’d always be in my heart.
But that’s not true.
You’re starting to become a thing that once hurt me very much but that can’t hurt me anymore. A monster whose face begins to fade and who no longer engenders fear.
The truth is, I loved you. And knowing that I could love you, despite it all, tells me I can love.
And that’s a precious gift for me.
You can go ahead and blame me for how sad and lonely your life is. Blame me for how you can’t be in the world. It’s OK. It means nothing to me. Eventually it’ll mean nothing to you and you’ll have to find another excuse to hide.
And, for the record, I owe you nothing. I feel no guilt for keeping what I have kept. I earned it.
You always have Laura to give you solace. That’s a truth that brings no pain, only a relief that I won’t have to worry that you’re obsessing over me.
You say you haven’t loved me since the first year of our marriage. Well that’s true and also a lie. You haven’t loved me. Period. And that’s OK. I understand now what your love is and I don’t ever want it.
The only regret I have is this: I let myself become less for you. That sin will haunt me forever. It is the one thing I can never forgive myself for. It is the thing I had to work the hardest to overcome and I don’t know if I will ever know that I did.