A part of Surviving Anything is learning how to get out of you the things that haunt you. For a long time I have turned to writing. There have been people in my life who have destroyed me. Most of the time I write them a letter. A letter I can’t give them. No because they’ve heard it all before. I do it as my reminder that this is over. It’s never easy.
I make it public. Because for the longest time I’ve wanted to help others get through this. I wanted others to know before hand what can happen and also that there comes a point when You can get better. That point when you can put down those feelings and move forward.
It’s not about trashing someone. It’s about being honest with someone. This isn’t meant to hurt anyone, it can but that isn’t my intention. This is my call for help. These are the things no one wants to hear. These is the ugly of the world no one wants to see. But forget the world.
I’m opening my life up so someone else can feel like there is someone who understands. This is my letter:
It seems like no matter how hard I try, I can’t talk to you. Seeing you kills me. I don’t know who you are, its as if everything I knew was a lie. But what kills me more is that I let you lie to me. I feared you.
You want to blame me for our divorce. Go ahead. But one last time, here’s my truth. Here’s what I know and I don’t care what you think happened. When I close my eyes, when I sit alone, this is what I see.
I see me sitting on the floor across the room from you. I see you telling me that if I ever made you choose between me and A—– you’d choose her every time. That’s when I died. That’s when I gave up.
You blame my addiction, but I didn’t see a point in fighting it. You say I controlled you. I did. I purposely pushed you closer to her. I wanted you to screw up. I wanted to be right. So when you asked to see her, I let you. I tried at times to stop it, but I always gave in because I knew how’d it all end. And I wasn’t wrong.
You ran to her. You slept in her bed. You shared your body with her. Then you came home and expected me to give you everything back. So I did. I gave into the darkness. I gave into the very thing that turned me into an animal. I guess you didn’t like that.
I never tried after that. It was all a show, just waiting for you to leave again. I’m not sorry if this hurts you. I’m not sorry if this hurts anyone. This is my last letter to you. This is my goodbye.
Someday our son will ask and I have no idea what to tell him. I don’t think there will ever be an answer good enough. I hope that day never comes. He doesn’t need to know and I hope he learns to love us both and never has to hurt because of this.
I’m not afraid of you anymore. What I say to you now is what I’d say to you in private. I won’t carry your secrets anymore. I won’t take your apologies. You couldn’t protect our family before and I still don’t trust you to protect our son now or ever. I expect you to fail and it won’t surprise me.
I write the things I am tired of trying to say. I write because it’s the only way to get it all out. These are the last words I have for you: I hope you find happiness in your life.