And now I don’t know if I’ll send it.
The world seems to be crumbling around us and I can’t be bothered to focus on my anger today.
Instead I’m focused on surviving, trying to pay rent, being healthy, my baby, just living.
But I’m ashamed to admit that a part of the reason I didn’t immediately hit send once I’d proofread it three times and signed my name is because I’m afraid of hurting him. Even now, two-and-a-half years later, I’m afraid of saying something that will hurt him. And I’m afraid he’ll say, “No, Hy, you were the asshole.” But I’ll have to handle it, I want to handle it, I need to handle it.
He’s probably thinking that this is the beginning of us being friends and it’s that misinformed expectation that causes me pause. I held no punches and described what the last couple of years have been like for me, which have not been pretty. God, why am I so afraid of hurting him?? All I’m doing is sharing what my life has been like in the wake of our relationship, his lies.
I’m afraid of being wrong. That’s all it is. I’m afraid he’ll say, “None of that is true and none of your feelings matter,” just like I was always told as a child. I have zero experience telling someone they’ve hurt me and getting a sincere and heartfelt apology back and this is even scarier because I don’t have a relationship with this man anymore; I don’t expect an apology, but I suppose I do expect a retaliation. And I’m ok with that.
I am not expecting him to help me move on or bring closure.
I’m doing that, that’s my job. The creation of this letter is purely for me to send it, not for me to receive something back. I am responsible for me, he’s not.
It would be a dream come true, though, if he came at me on his knees and confirmed all my suspicions of lies and deceit. It’d be poetic because there’s something sick about having a gut feeling things are off, but being told you’re crazy and not to worry only to discover later you were absolutely right when your boyfriend of 3 years walks out on you one day. A lot like that paper cut on your tongue as you suck a lemon.
It’s late and I have an early start tomorrow. I wonder how the letter will read in the light of a Monday morning.