To: The Man who tore my heart out and then stomped on it.
I suppose you are wondering why I am writing this letter to you now after so much time has passed. Well, the only answer I can come up with is this; I need closure. There are so many things that I need to say to you, that I should have said long before this, but I have been trying not to dwell on the past and have been focusing on moving forward. Funny thing about trying to move forward though, looking at the past, back at what got you where you are is not what stops you from moving on; it is not looking back that hinders the forward momentum.
Lately I have found myself thinking about you a great deal, and you have been invading my dreams which I find extremely annoying. I would appreciate it if you would stick to your own nightmares and leave my dream world alone. There are so many everyday happenings that bring memories of you to the surface. I still find it difficult to make an indulgent purchase without feeling somewhat guilty. It reminds me of how often I would buy something I wanted, then have to sneak it into the house and find a place to hide it so you wouldn’t know. This of course meant I could only enjoy it when you were not around. Those days are long gone, but the fear I felt at that time still haunts me now and then. When I vacuum I hear your voice in my head saying the same thing you said every time I picked up that dam machine, “You’re cleaning? What, are we having company?” insinuating that I never did any house cleaning at all. I can’t clean a toilet or scoop cat shit without feeling like I might not be doing it right. I remember washing the car once, but all you could talk about was how dirty the windshield was on the inside. You would never allow me hang pictures on the walls because I could ruin the plaster. You had to do it…whenever you got around to it. By the way, do you still have naked wall? I never expected praise for everyday chores, but neither did I expect or deserve to be criticized or berated.
When I think of what I need to say and all the questions I want answers to the first thing that comes to mind is --Why? I know that’s not very specific, but there are so many ‘whys’. If I were to list them all, I would be writing this for months, and frankly I don’t know if I have that kind of energy to waste on something I will probably never get an honest answer to anyway. But in the spirit of what this letter is meant to do for me I will attempt to list as many as I can think of right now. These are only the tip of the iceberg, but here goes:
Why could you never talk to me? Why didn’t you want to spend time with me? Why did you lie so much? Why did you think I was so stupid that I wouldn’t figure things out? Why did you take Charlot to a luxury hotel while I was lying in a hospital bed recovering from major surgery? Why was I never enough? Why couldn’t you tell me what you needed? Why did you never even attempt to stop drinking? Why couldn’t you be bothered to even try? Why did you not fight for us? Why did you torture me to the point of tears over phantom money problems? Why did you threaten me with “ending us”, before I had any idea you were cheating? Why did you use honesty as your weapon to beat me down until I was on my knees begging your forgiveness? Why were you such a hypocrite? Why was it okay for you to hide money? Why didn’t you just leave? Why didn’t you stop seeing her? Why did you lie about not seeing her? Why did you let me think there was hope? Why didn’t you just “end us”, instead of letting the two of us exist in that hell for all those months? Why could I never do anything right in your eyes? Why did you always talk down to me as if I was an idiot? Why did you never compliment me? Why didn’t you ever tell me you were proud of me? Why did you marry me? Why do you act like you’re the victim in our demise? Why do you think nothing is your fault? Why can’t you be a man and tell your family the truth? Why did you change the locks? Why wouldn’t you give me what was mine? Why did you deny me children? Why are you so dam selfish? Why did you stop loving me? Why?
There are some other questions that I can answer, but they only bring up more questions. Why did I put up with all your crap? I loved you, that’s why. Why did I love you? Because I thought you were worth it. Why did I think you were worth loving? I saw something in you back when we were new. It drew me to you. I saw a need in you and I thought I could fill it. I tried my best, but over the years there were times when I wanted to give up. I thought I was failing you, but then you would say or do something, or just look at me a certain way and I would see it again. I would know that you needed me, that I was where I was supposed to be. Need and love are two very different things, but somehow they got all mixed up with us as if they were the same. Needing is about oneself, loving is about someone else. Loving and giving, needing and taking, that’s what our relationship was based on. I loved, you needed. We were doomed from the start.
We have always seen things differently, you and I, so I am sure my view of the past is not the way you see it, and that’s okay. Because I really don’t care what you think about anything, anymore. It doesn’t matter, you don’t matter. This is my truth…this is the weight, the baggage, the crap I’ve been carrying around for far too long. It’s time for me to put it down because I don’t want to own it anymore. It all came from you and it’s all yours now because I am giving back to you. I think I told you once that I forgive you and I want you to know that I do. I forgive you not for your sake, but for mine. I won’t carry that with me anymore either. Mostly, I am forgiving myself for holding on to the weight, the baggage and the crap. Like I said to you on the day I left …”I am done,” but now, finally…I am free.
Forever your Ex-Wife,
Betty.
P.S….What goes around comes around. Karma can be an evil bitch. It would do ye well ta be lookin’ over yer shoulder so ye’ll know when payback time is at hand. And ye best be wearin’ yer leather undies lest ye lose a huge chunk of yer backside when she comes back around ta bite ye in the ass.
