Category: To You

A Fight She Never Asked Me To Fight

I have luckily forgotten much of the fights I fought. She’s long gone. In a world all her own. It’s better that way. It always was but there’s an undeniable connection we share. Not romantic. Not as friends. Not as siblings or family.

What I do remember is welcoming you home. What I do remember is helping you experience something more than the fear. God the world was always a fiery red around you… wasn’t it. It was like the world of goblins and gods. Only I didn’t know which was which. Neither did you.

I’d point my spear at whatever you’d ask. Myths of women and men. Great beasts! I’d stand between them and you. For years and many wars. I was so tired. Not as tired as you. You found your vices and I found loneliness. Yet I’d fight.

Bruised and so so bloody. Do you remember that? Do you wonder how bloody I am? I’m no artist but it doesn’t take much to paint our picture. Two people who maybe wanted to be in love but just weren’t. Still I’d do anything for you, for the storm that did her best to thank me in so many ways but you never could give me what I wanted. There was no future for the survivors of our war. Not together.

So we ran. That’s why I’m writing again. You never met the woman I’m going to call my wife. You’ve never met my fat cat son. You won’t be the aunt to my kids or the friends I begged for. Because I can’t reach out. For the first time I’m doing my best to make a life for myself. And you always came here. This place was the white flag. So Hayl be well. Remember to me you are important and always will be. I forgive you for the pain. I can finally say I let you go. I won’t wash away all the blood because it’s part of me now. These scars won’t all heal and that’s ok. I won’t forget you. I refuse too. I hope you’re doing the best for yourself. I hope you remember that you deserve the best. I hope you give yourself a life worth living away from the fixes and bandages. I hope Hayley… that you’re okay.

I gave my husband a good laugh this year with gifting. I found a shirt of a band he loves Kreator, that plays on one of their songs ‘Satan is real’ with the red scrawlings of Santa is real on the back and a large menacing Santa face on the front. He loves it.
His folks also gave him a massive suprise. We open gifts the night before and they gave us a call from their Mexican resort around 7 to open up their gift . Inside there was a bag of lovely clothes for the kid and three custom thermos, but it was what was inside of the thermos that left us all shocked. The husband pulled out a printout that says student loan debt with the words crossed out in bright red. He’s stunned right and checks the website to verify what’s been done, and they really did it, they paid off 20,000. In student loan debt. In return though we have to make sure we get our essentials organized to join them in Mexico next year and with the savings their gift provides and the profit sharing he now gets at his job, it’s actually possible now.
We’ve never known his folks to be flamboyant lavish , and I tell him it probably was something they planned for awhile but only if he hit the right milestones like sticking around with a good job, taking care of family, finance, and home. Looks like he done good.

The actual day of the holiday we visited my dad and his wife for a steak dinner and mashed potatoes. Their house is mostly packed up for the upcoming move to Florida.
There’s still this disgusting strip of fly tape hanging over the dining room table covered in flies, his wife makes her usual ‘jokes’ about not wanting us around. Her son who lives in a renovated version of my old room isn’t around, he left with his girlfriend to go see her Kansas family. There’s still some good points though, the kid is laughing while she plays chase with her dad and my dad’s dog Coda in the yard. The movie was good and my dad does seem happy to have us visit to catch up, he always says we’re welcome any time but really that’s not the case. However I know his wife is the one to take the time to choose gifts for us. Sometimes I think her abrasiveness is more of a cultural divide in humor but then I remember the fly strip and realize that doesn’t quite fit either. For their gifts in turn I brought them a big box of food, frozen meats and whatnot since they’re in the moving process.

We watch Don’t look up as we eat and as we leave make loose plans for New Years visiting pending knowing the husband’s work schedule.

Back home we end the night watching Major Payne and it’s a good day.

Dear in laws

Like a lot of families you can be fun & positive & I can enjoy your company, but you have your emotionally abusive aspects too. This makes things difficult to navigate, for me, as I was brought up by an abusive mother, so I’m not great at standing up for myself or setting boundaries, but I am learning & trying & WILL get there.

Sister in law. Being tired is not a competition. Saying “yeah but you haven’t been working 20 hours a day and getting 4 hours sleep” doesn’t make me feel sorry for you or make me think “oh gosh maybe I should give you some special dispensation because your such a good person & work so hard”. I have actually been working about 20 hours a day because I had my day job & then we were moving into the house that you & your partner have provided for us (for you to control us from, no doubt) so……suck it. Maybe you shouldn’t do your extremely demanding xmas job? It’s a bit much to ask someone to work 20 hours a day, is it not? When I imagine myself saying that to someone, like you said it to me, I feel rude, and more than a little bit holier than though, I must say.

Brother in law. You’re very funny & likable but also very controlling. This makes you difficult to navigate.

Mother in law. Oh gosh you are quite depressed and anxious. And you don’t do anything to help yourself. You’ll insist on providing dinner but hurt your back by doing tgis & then bitch & moan about that the whoke time.

So. I’m not sure what to say. I hate u sometimes, but rn I’m feeling a certain way, where Ik ur gonna be somewhere soon where ur happy. Even though u hurt me more than anyone will, I need to u to happy

What can I say to you that I haven’t already said? 🙂 Well, I had my Covid Booster vaccine a few days ago. The Moderna one this time. I think about you even more at christmas. I remember you would always spend christmas day at your parents house, with your daughters. But you would always come back home to me at the end of every day. It’s still not, and will never be quite the same without you. How can it be? But please do one thing for me, have a party up there. Every christmas and when it’s your birthday, and every new year. Each year that passes by, means that I’m one year closer to someday seeing you again. I feel the same about my gran passing away. She too, was a total sweetheart. Please keep watching over me. Merry Christmas and Happy New year. 😊

It breaks my heart that I never had the chance to see you three again. I was intending to, just as soon as I could finally leave hospital. Yet, I wasn’t able to predict that I’d end up staying in hospital for months, rather than weeks. I still miss you three as much as I miss every other pet who has passed away. It was circumstances that were out of my control. The medical authorities decided where to put me after I could leave hospital for good. I’m sorry that I became unwell. It was inevitable. I wish it wasn’t, course. You all may just be pets to SOME people, but you three were much more than that. will always be thinking about you three, forever more. See you up there when it’s finally my time. My three precious star’s in the sky.

First I will note that I fear being melodramatic. Sorry in advance if that is the case. Second, I know if I could that I would scatter this entire page with “im sorry”s for things that probably weren’t even wrongs. So I’m going to get it out now. If it is possible that any of the things I worry I may have done wrong actually were wrong, I’m sorry. That’s a horrible way to start a letter. I am insecure. It’s obvious. I am insecure and fearful, and I’m anxious because of it. I fear “using” you or your friendship with ulterior motives. I fear idolizing you and comparing myself to you in unhealthy ways or using you as the standard with which I beat myself. (sorry for the melodrama.) I fear I don’t know my own heart. I fear that my same-sex attraction will put barriers in our friendship, real or imagined. I fear myself either going too far or being too reserved. I fear scaring you away or causing you harm. We both know that we are both physical people. How the touch of a friend is like a recharging of the soul. I am terrified of abusing that consciously or subconsciously due to same-sex attraction. (Objectively, you are gorgeous, and I know you know that). I fear straining our friendship with insanely high expectations that I should only be expecting from a man I may marry one day. I fear being too selfish, taking and not giving. I fear I will always be too quiet, because in my anxiety my mind goes blank in conversation and I have no clue what to say, until after you drop me off at my dorm when suddenly I think of a million different things I wished I had said. Imagined conversations. I sometimes get the feeling that I am acting like a sick puppy around you and _____, never leaving of my own volition but always waiting to be politely “kicked out”. I fear losing you. I fear drifting away. I fear pushing you away. While I do fear the possibility of putting you on a pedestal and idolizing you, objectively there are many ways in which you excel that I need to take note of. Because you inspire me greatly.

I honestly think you will change many lives (you definitely already have…). I’ve never seen anyone with as much of a genuine passion for life and art and hard work and knowledge as you have. You’ve worked so diligently getting your degree and you already have experience in your field. Hell, you have experience in LIFE. You have concrete plans. You have a vision. You have fire. You have purpose. When I first met you, I was put to shame by the amount of stories you had to share and art you’ve made and people you’ve met and lessons you’ve learned. The students you’ll teach are only going to be better after meeting you. You’ve already taught me a lot, and I’m not even a student of yours. “Can you direct me?” was a shitty nervous joke that I made in my own misunderstanding of what you meant, but it’s actually a great Freudian-slip sort of plea. If I could I would have you direct my life and show me what I’m doing wrong and what I can do instead. You are, inadvertently; I also fear that I am just “copying” you one way or another. My own parents warned me of that. I know I’m capable of disingenuity and being a chameleon. It’s difficult when it seems more and more that I am allowing myself to “like” or be “into” things I held myself back from. Crocheting, braids, updos, earrings, nice clothes, even Christian contemporary music and abstract art – two things I had firmly decided I absolutely hated. You’ve lifted me up to see that I *can* like what I like and you have softened my heart to the things that I thought I totally despised. You are not afraid to be yourself no matter how many people try to tear you down. You learned that lesson early, I think. Another “im sorry” for how slowly I’m learning it. (or maybe you’d tell me I should have a backbone and that growing is nothing to apologize for).

Thank you for being the greatest older sister I never had.

It was Beni.