Truth

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 It was funny watching you try to pass off all those same complaints about me that were obviously no longer valid.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.