So here is the thing. I think you are probably the only one who knows what it is like to be going through this right now, the day after what would have been our 6th anniversary. I don't want to intrude on your life-- I just want some solidarity.
Remember when we got married? Remember the ceremony? Remember looking at me when we made our vows? I know I was crying, just a little, and I remember looking at everyone sitting in the pews.
So many thoughts flood my mind right now-- I remember your uncle picking me up and twirling me around to the song "I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll". I remember dancing with people in the dollar dance line- and my cousin Dave, the one who died of cancer last year at 39, told me how my cousin Brian, the one in the coast guard, asked him for advice on what to talk to me about.
I remember people singing. Do you? Remember how we had people sing Christmas carols in order to get us to kiss? Do you remember the toasts? I said thanks. You said nothing and were shy. J told everyone about our nicknames and N- well, he was always perfect and gracious. Your best friend. I understand why.
You are a good guy.
I could have done much worse.
I am sorry that you struggle with addiction. I am sorry that you suffered from so much pain so early in life. I am sorry your dad was the way he was. I wish he would have come to our wedding. I am sorry you never felt you could be honest with me about your addiction. I like to believe I would have stuck by you if you would have told me the truth.
I miss your family. I miss your mom. I miss your brother. I miss your aunts and uncles. I miss you. I miss you hugging me all the time. I miss you keeping me updated on all the cool things happening in the world.
I miss what I thought we were. What we might have been.
You really hurt me. I know I have told you this before. It was the lying that killed it--where would we be in fifty years if lies had already sabotaged us at five? It would never have worked, but I would never have changed a thing.
You asked me to marry you six and a half years ago in your apartment. It felt weird to me at the time--forced? I don't know. And all the Catholic counseling we went to you viewed as a chore to mock. Should these have been warnings for me? The issues we dealt with before we married-- family commitments, holidays, sexuality-- all manifested in our marriage, covered, of course, in lies, in omission.
I could go on and on. I could delve into the abyss of pain I swim in from time to time.
But that's not the purpose of this letter.
The fact is-- people don't seem to get it. It's only been a year and a half and when I tell some old friends that it's a tough time for me they chuckle. They seem to think I've bounced back. They think I am now so improved I don't remember the darkness of last year.
Other people blame our youth. They say that's what can be expected when two 24 year-olds marry. It's just too young for people to know what they want.
This insults me. I married you thinking we'd be together forever. I don't think age had a thing to do with it. I know I married you with the faith of a girl who had never really had her heart broken before and who had no idea what fate had in store for us. But pushing you away- waiting for four more years- neither of these actions would have served me well. How could I learn to be the person I am meant to be if I didn't pursue my fate as my own heart directed me?
Again- your actions hurt me so much. My self-esteem, sense of trust, personal values, personal sexuality all changed during our relationship.
But now they have changed again. And everything is clearer than it ever was before we got together.
You married a stunted woman. I married a stunted man. But I truly believe we were both doing the best we could with the tools we had acquired throughout our lives. You meant everything to me for nine years. I have let you go but I can't forget my past.
Do people make stupid comments to you too? R told me she asked you via facebook what you did to mess it up. I told her our breakup was the worst experience I had been through and probably was for you too. Were your relatives supportive? Do they judge me for leaving you?
I can only guess at the answers.
Good-bye. I don't want to run into you. I don't want to see you again. I just wanted to write to you because, when all is said and done, you are the only one who knows how I was feeling yesterday. And I didn't have to say a word.
God bless. Good luck. We are better for having known each other. My heart was broken and made whole in the course of our togetherness and undoing.
-K
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