This Again
Dear Jay,
It's been two years almost exactly since we broke up the first time. So much has happened that I can't fill in. So much to say and it almost feels like a waste of time to put thoughts on paper because it's not going to change anything.
I left the light on for you on my porch every night last week. Hoping that maybe you'd spontaneously stop by. That you'd find something around your house that you needed to drop off. I wanted to see your face outside the small window on my door. I waited for you to knock and you never came.
Sunday was a turning point for me. I rounded the corner of denial and came to know my fate.
It's over. Really this time. Over.
I want it to not be true. But for the first time ever, I finally have a deep understanding of what you've been enduring all along. To not have to bear all the heartbreak at once, I ingested one of those sugar coated gummies you gave me. I decided to walk the kids down to the playground at the end of our street and let them ride their bikes. I watched as they swung on swings, bopped up and down together on the seesaw and climbed an obstacle course of spiderman ropes. I followed them along and helped them on the swings and getting down from too high up. I talked to them instead of staring at my phone or sitting on the bench and ignoring them. I've been doing anything I can to distract myself and them from the fact that you are not there.
And as I walked back home, behind their fiercely peddling bicycle wheels, I walked in the crisp fall air and admired the orange leaves on the trees. And my hand in my pocket was tempted to reach out, and grab you around your arm and hug you from the side and say "Isn't this a nice life we have?" But you weren't there next to me to do that.
Your absence is everywhere. The hole where you should be in my bed. The two empty chairs at the dinner table for you and your son. The frame on my bedside table, where I had to replace your photo because it caused me too much pain to see us on my birthday at the Golden Gate Bridge looking so fucking happy. To know that all along you were feeling like this... the way I feel now. Missing someone. Wishing they were next to you. Waiting for them to come home but knowing they never will.
I miss you. I want you back. I want you with me all the time. To walk to the park, to walk through life. I loved you. And you are gone. I want you back but you are gone for good and I can't do anything to get you back.
I got the kids home and I sat down on the steps to take off my new boots and I broke down. A constant stream of tears came out as I let the whole weekend go. Anwar came because he heard me sobbing and asked "What's wrong?" and I told him I was just sad about something and he walked back to his room.
Three days not hearing from you at all; I had been so strong not to communicate with you at all. I had willed myself not to. I blocked your phone number for half a day when it was too intense. I removed all of our history from my text messages. I deleted you. I didn't want to see you and think of you and be tempted to go back and read all the things we'd said in anger or sadness or disappointment. I wanted to take it all back anyway.
I cried because I wanted to know where it went wrong. Where it stopped being good. I thought you were the right person for me... I thought that if only I could devote myself to you 100% that eventually you would also open your heart to me.
And then I realized that I wanted you to love me as you love a wife. I wanted all the things I'd never had when I was a wife. I wanted that real, true love. And I knew you were capable of that by the way you spoke of your wife. I wanted the things you described.
How selfish. How stupid. It is as if someone came along now and asked me to love them with all my heart! And I am still leaving the light on for you! I couldn't. I won't.
I see now that you were buried in the sadness of your loss and you needed someone or something to cure you. You needed a distraction. You needed hope and happiness that I wasn't ever going to be able to bring you. You wanted to feel SOMETHING other than pain. And I was this beacon, this sexy figure! ha. This care giver, mother figure. I was at once going to please you and also bring ease back into the daily life. By taking care of things. And giving you some breathing room to just... exist without immense pain. I was filling the void.
But the problem of all of that is that my expectation was never to be the beacon of ease. It was to fall in love and meet the man of my dreams and love him like I'd never loved before. Love him like I'd never been hurt before. Love him like I'd never failed at marriage before. Love him like he was NOT my ex-husband. Love him like I was the one for him. Like I was more than enough. Love him like I was everything he had ever wanted.
The love notes and plants started me thinking you were capable. The open house strolling on weekends. The gifts for my children. The earrings with my birth stone. Inviting me to meet your family. For me, all the signs were leading to "US" being It. It was love. It was the elevator going up. We moved in together and bought a car.
But once I moved in...
I see it now. That was the point when I was no longer an independent woman. I was relying on you a lot, I guess. Maybe that's how you see it. Was I that old fashioned woman with an apron on waiting in the kitchen, tapping my foot, at 5:30 like "You're late."?
Maybe I wasn't such a nag, but you got to know me better. I wasn't just this perfect woman with a glamorous life and so much potential-- That is what happened. -- You got to see all my little flaws under a microscope. The way I make a mess. The way I start and don't finish. The way I let time pass. The way I eat or sleep or get dressed or brush my teeth. The way I get angry when I don't get what I want. The way I burst into tears when someone points out my inadequacies. The way I lose sleep when I'm stressed. I gained weight. My hair fell out. I grasped for anything I could to be admired by you again. I tried to dye my hair blonde!
But everything began to bother you. You'd stay up late and watch TV in another room. You'd leave the house to run errands for a few hours just to get away. But the thing that bothered you the most, I see now, was that I had expectations. I expected that when I had feelings and needs that you would listen and meet those needs. I had desires for us that you didn't want to, couldn't or had no reason to fulfill. When I am a verbal affirmation person, I needed you to say "I love you." and when I asked for it... I already knew.
"You know I love you. I've told you so many times."
It was over by then.
My husband used to say the same identical words.
For us, there was never a good time to "talk". The way I talked wasn't right. The passion in my voice or the words I chose to use! None of those were satisfactory. The feelings I had were unfounded. The desires I had were unreasonable. The dreams I had were too much to think about. And couldn't I just get through one week without a fight? A fight? A discussion. An Argument. ... or having feelings. Could I just not require anything of you? That would be great, right?! If I could just do my parenting, mind my manners, meet my obligations, and let you be.
See, that is where you are at fault. You wanted safety, security, solace... You wanted quiet time to think and alone time to process. You wanted me and my rowdy kids to tame ourselves or go somewhere and let you just have some peace. You wanted to hide us away when it was convenient. You didn't want anyone to get too close. You didn't want to tell the truth about me to the world because you're a private person? Or because you weren't sure how long I'd stay...
Jason, life isn't clean or quiet. Life with three boys. Especially.
Life after a spouse dies isn't quaint. It's not tidy. Being with a woman who is divorced is uncouth. Being a step parent is dicey at best.
Let me put this another way. I've given some thought to this.
So, you break up with me and you spend some time doing the work of taking care of your routine and securing rides for Sam to school and a playdate on the weekend to catch up around the house. You start to wonder what else is out there to distract or entertain you. You need some intimacy. You crave physical love and so you begin to date again.
You will not have a hard time finding a woman who finds you attractive because you are extremely handsome.
You will not find it hard to woo your new woman because you now have a very well paying job and you can take her to any restaurant you want.
And you won't have a hard time finding a woman who will want to take Sam under her wing and comfort him and spoil him and love him. Because women have an instinct to nurture and care for other humans. It's in our DNA.
But, what about the flip side of the coin?
What. is the value. of a woman. A woman who has the children of another man?
Think about it for a moment.
I am beauty maybe. I am something to look at - and touch. I am to satisfy a man's desire. I am to entertain or distract. But I am not to keep. And I am past the point in my life where I am just an object to grope or seduce. I don't want that anymore. I gave it all up to have the real deal. But I'm not so sure I will have that in my life. Ever.
This I know now. No one will love my kids and their noise and their chaos, and I understand that now. Because that is only something that you put up with when those kids came from your body and you love them unconditionally and you think their shit don't stink. They are perfect only to me.
I am not rich. I am not fancy. I am not from a well to do family. I am getting older and I'm not prime material for motherhood. I am not yet stable. I am not good on paper. Why would anyone take the chance? They will all see me as you did. They will find my flaws and back away. If they even make it that far.
You may replace me. You could replace me in an instant should you want to.
But, there is no woman out there that will not eventually ask you for the same things I asked you for. I wanted you to listen to me, to validate my feelings by just hearing me out. Just "contemplating the meaning of life" with me from time to time. I wanted your friendship. I wanted to reach the stars together. There is no woman out there that will say "Let's do all the feelings another time. I'm tired and don't really want to get into it." They will all want to further their goals in life with you. To buy a house, to raise a family. Watch out, Jason if they're in their late 30's and don't have children because then their hormones will be raging and their baby making energy on high alert. (If you don't want more children JUST SAY THAT IN THE BEGINNING!) They will want to plan vacations and make lists of goals and visit with realtors and mortgage brokers and make plans and open bank accounts and..... Build the future. With you. They will all want that.
Or
You could have a string of sexual partners whom you never have to get emotionally attached to. And then you'll never have to introduce them to Sam. And you can keep him safe. And yourself safe. And you will never have to open up your heart again to anyone.
Regardless, I mention this because I thought about it while I was making dinner Sunday night. after a photoshoot I planned to have you be present for was over. And the sun went down. I listened to this song by Kaleo called "All the Pretty Girls" and it is about you. Exactly.
I will not get over you. And I will not get up and dust myself off and move on. Because I know what it's like to walk away from a ten year marriage. By the time he left I was SO GLAD to get rid of him. Paint the house, clean, and clear. the. air. I was so excited to get on with living, even if I was alone! I wasn't scared! I was excited! I didn't even like him by the end.
Maybe in this weekend you have felt the same way. Finally! all of the drama and the hardship has vanished! Finally all the demands and nagging and constant needing is gone. It must be liberating and bring you so much clarity. It must be nice and quiet and controlled at home.
I once read the book "He's Just Not That Into You" and it made no sense to me. These girls were obviously annoying and they wanted the guy to be infatuated with them. They had all these annoying needs and they couldn't figure out why the guy couldn't meet their needs. They moved too fast and wanted to be married in an instant.... The guy didn't call them back. Avoided anything serious.
Wait.
You're just not that into me. I know you said you loved me so many times but.... What did you love? The dinner on the table when you got home? The fact that I cleaned everyone's ears so you didn't have to? The warm body next to you in bed? Because the fine, particular, intricate details about ME that make me different from any other girl you've ever been with or will ever be with? Those are the things that you dislike about me.
Everything that makes me who I am are the things that you despise. The things you harp on me about. The things you say I "need help" with. The things that you read clinical articles about and want to cure me of. My risky finances 'veiled' as "entrepreneurship." The things that you literally poke fun of! Those are my best attributes! Those are the things that fuel the soul inside my core. They are what make me. They inspire other people. Just not you.
So you're not into me. But you chose me and there I was living in your home. It makes sense to me that your resentment would build and you'd begin to let it show. The irony is that while I make a big crashing sound when I criticize you, with my loud voice or angry words, your form of venting is like mustard gas.
You make jokes to my face. You make jokes in front of friends. You laugh as you tell me a deeply critical thing and then say you're kidding or say "you know I'm right." You slowly made me doubt myself and hate myself. You always took an opportunity to knock me down a peg. You broke me down, always denying me my ability to ask for your friendship, because I wasn't graceful with the timing of my ask. My harmless suggestions of ways of seeing that would help you fulfill your dreams or recover from loss-- those were 'New Age bullshit!' My parenting style made your skin crawl. My books and coaching and dogmas. My risky, irresponsible lifestyle you urged me to quit and change and flip flop and go backwards; though I've spent my whole life getting ready to be where I am right now in my career! You made me feel like I was manipulative and cutting when I just wanted to say how I felt-- I wanted to be heard-- I was dying to get your attention and have you just heard me so I said it as loudly as possible hoping you'd quiet down and think about my vantage point. You made me into a monster, though you never took the time to see from my point of view. You never allowed yourself to step into my shoes. You don't see yourself as wrong. Only me.
I am left wondering, WHAT did you ever see in me?
And WHY. Why did you bring me into your world?
Such a waste of time to end with such a climax of emotions whilst we could have avoided all of this. I uprooted my home and my family to devote myself to you. I took a human being, a child, who was not mine and made him so. Put every ounce of my character into loving him as if I were his mom. I cherished you and him and wanted to improve your home and your life... I gave my greatest effort yet! And I sacrificed so much time. Hours and days that I could have spent loving my own children more. Getting to know them better, being involved with their hobbies or school, rather than putting so much pressure on making it work with you. So many tears trying to make it work. Trying to be everything to you. Trying to be enough for you. Like if I had tried hard enough to please you I would finally, finally win.
There is no winning with you. I was always. Always. Always going to fail. Even if I was perfect! All the time!
Because your pain is so deep you cannot see straight. I think what you want is to bring her back. And because you can't nothing will ever do.
But, she is gone. And she'd hopefully be the first person to tell you that the best thing you had going just packed up and moved away. I would have gone to the moon and back for you and Sam. Why can't you see that? I lived to support her memory. I gave you so much space to continue to love her. I supported you in your grief and loved you independent of it.
So, I think. "He's just not that ... into the into you." He's into the idea of you- A woman to take the place and fill the void. But not the real you. The real you falls short in so many ways. I can't dwell on what I am not. Who I am not. Who I can never be. And how because of that I'll never have you.
And so, I'd rather put my hand in my pocket. And clutch my phone. And hope that a friend calls to check up on me. And admire the yellow leaves and the beauty in the world. The little angel voices of my kids calling me "Mommy! I found an orange one!" and collect the leaves with them. Than think for one more minute about you.
No one will ever be enough for you. Until you can let go. And feel all the pain and sadness. And really open your heart. And be unsafe. And be uncertain. Be vulnerable. Be ready to lose it all again. Be ready to have the best love of your entire life. And let go of the guilt of having moved on. The guilt of having been the one to survive. And risk. And fail. And admit you were wrong. And try again.
I will not be here to watch you go through that metamorphosis. Because I know now that you're not ready. And I can't wait for a year or two or three until you are. I have my whole life ahead of me. I have too many dreams that I'd like to get busy making come true. I have too many paintings to paint, to many adventures to take, too many sunsets to admire. I refuse to play it safe in my fortress of responsibility and solitude. I refuse to let another year go by unhappy. I'd rather be alone than with someone and lonely.
It's been two years almost exactly since we broke up the first time. So much has happened that I can't fill in. So much to say and it almost feels like a waste of time to put thoughts on paper because it's not going to change anything.
I left the light on for you on my porch every night last week. Hoping that maybe you'd spontaneously stop by. That you'd find something around your house that you needed to drop off. I wanted to see your face outside the small window on my door. I waited for you to knock and you never came.
Sunday was a turning point for me. I rounded the corner of denial and came to know my fate.
It's over. Really this time. Over.
I want it to not be true. But for the first time ever, I finally have a deep understanding of what you've been enduring all along. To not have to bear all the heartbreak at once, I ingested one of those sugar coated gummies you gave me. I decided to walk the kids down to the playground at the end of our street and let them ride their bikes. I watched as they swung on swings, bopped up and down together on the seesaw and climbed an obstacle course of spiderman ropes. I followed them along and helped them on the swings and getting down from too high up. I talked to them instead of staring at my phone or sitting on the bench and ignoring them. I've been doing anything I can to distract myself and them from the fact that you are not there.
And as I walked back home, behind their fiercely peddling bicycle wheels, I walked in the crisp fall air and admired the orange leaves on the trees. And my hand in my pocket was tempted to reach out, and grab you around your arm and hug you from the side and say "Isn't this a nice life we have?" But you weren't there next to me to do that.
Your absence is everywhere. The hole where you should be in my bed. The two empty chairs at the dinner table for you and your son. The frame on my bedside table, where I had to replace your photo because it caused me too much pain to see us on my birthday at the Golden Gate Bridge looking so fucking happy. To know that all along you were feeling like this... the way I feel now. Missing someone. Wishing they were next to you. Waiting for them to come home but knowing they never will.
I miss you. I want you back. I want you with me all the time. To walk to the park, to walk through life. I loved you. And you are gone. I want you back but you are gone for good and I can't do anything to get you back.
I got the kids home and I sat down on the steps to take off my new boots and I broke down. A constant stream of tears came out as I let the whole weekend go. Anwar came because he heard me sobbing and asked "What's wrong?" and I told him I was just sad about something and he walked back to his room.
Three days not hearing from you at all; I had been so strong not to communicate with you at all. I had willed myself not to. I blocked your phone number for half a day when it was too intense. I removed all of our history from my text messages. I deleted you. I didn't want to see you and think of you and be tempted to go back and read all the things we'd said in anger or sadness or disappointment. I wanted to take it all back anyway.
I cried because I wanted to know where it went wrong. Where it stopped being good. I thought you were the right person for me... I thought that if only I could devote myself to you 100% that eventually you would also open your heart to me.
And then I realized that I wanted you to love me as you love a wife. I wanted all the things I'd never had when I was a wife. I wanted that real, true love. And I knew you were capable of that by the way you spoke of your wife. I wanted the things you described.
How selfish. How stupid. It is as if someone came along now and asked me to love them with all my heart! And I am still leaving the light on for you! I couldn't. I won't.
I see now that you were buried in the sadness of your loss and you needed someone or something to cure you. You needed a distraction. You needed hope and happiness that I wasn't ever going to be able to bring you. You wanted to feel SOMETHING other than pain. And I was this beacon, this sexy figure! ha. This care giver, mother figure. I was at once going to please you and also bring ease back into the daily life. By taking care of things. And giving you some breathing room to just... exist without immense pain. I was filling the void.
But the problem of all of that is that my expectation was never to be the beacon of ease. It was to fall in love and meet the man of my dreams and love him like I'd never loved before. Love him like I'd never been hurt before. Love him like I'd never failed at marriage before. Love him like he was NOT my ex-husband. Love him like I was the one for him. Like I was more than enough. Love him like I was everything he had ever wanted.
The love notes and plants started me thinking you were capable. The open house strolling on weekends. The gifts for my children. The earrings with my birth stone. Inviting me to meet your family. For me, all the signs were leading to "US" being It. It was love. It was the elevator going up. We moved in together and bought a car.
But once I moved in...
I see it now. That was the point when I was no longer an independent woman. I was relying on you a lot, I guess. Maybe that's how you see it. Was I that old fashioned woman with an apron on waiting in the kitchen, tapping my foot, at 5:30 like "You're late."?
Maybe I wasn't such a nag, but you got to know me better. I wasn't just this perfect woman with a glamorous life and so much potential-- That is what happened. -- You got to see all my little flaws under a microscope. The way I make a mess. The way I start and don't finish. The way I let time pass. The way I eat or sleep or get dressed or brush my teeth. The way I get angry when I don't get what I want. The way I burst into tears when someone points out my inadequacies. The way I lose sleep when I'm stressed. I gained weight. My hair fell out. I grasped for anything I could to be admired by you again. I tried to dye my hair blonde!
But everything began to bother you. You'd stay up late and watch TV in another room. You'd leave the house to run errands for a few hours just to get away. But the thing that bothered you the most, I see now, was that I had expectations. I expected that when I had feelings and needs that you would listen and meet those needs. I had desires for us that you didn't want to, couldn't or had no reason to fulfill. When I am a verbal affirmation person, I needed you to say "I love you." and when I asked for it... I already knew.
"You know I love you. I've told you so many times."
It was over by then.
My husband used to say the same identical words.
For us, there was never a good time to "talk". The way I talked wasn't right. The passion in my voice or the words I chose to use! None of those were satisfactory. The feelings I had were unfounded. The desires I had were unreasonable. The dreams I had were too much to think about. And couldn't I just get through one week without a fight? A fight? A discussion. An Argument. ... or having feelings. Could I just not require anything of you? That would be great, right?! If I could just do my parenting, mind my manners, meet my obligations, and let you be.
See, that is where you are at fault. You wanted safety, security, solace... You wanted quiet time to think and alone time to process. You wanted me and my rowdy kids to tame ourselves or go somewhere and let you just have some peace. You wanted to hide us away when it was convenient. You didn't want anyone to get too close. You didn't want to tell the truth about me to the world because you're a private person? Or because you weren't sure how long I'd stay...
Jason, life isn't clean or quiet. Life with three boys. Especially.
Life after a spouse dies isn't quaint. It's not tidy. Being with a woman who is divorced is uncouth. Being a step parent is dicey at best.
Let me put this another way. I've given some thought to this.
So, you break up with me and you spend some time doing the work of taking care of your routine and securing rides for Sam to school and a playdate on the weekend to catch up around the house. You start to wonder what else is out there to distract or entertain you. You need some intimacy. You crave physical love and so you begin to date again.
You will not have a hard time finding a woman who finds you attractive because you are extremely handsome.
You will not find it hard to woo your new woman because you now have a very well paying job and you can take her to any restaurant you want.
And you won't have a hard time finding a woman who will want to take Sam under her wing and comfort him and spoil him and love him. Because women have an instinct to nurture and care for other humans. It's in our DNA.
But, what about the flip side of the coin?
What. is the value. of a woman. A woman who has the children of another man?
Think about it for a moment.
I am beauty maybe. I am something to look at - and touch. I am to satisfy a man's desire. I am to entertain or distract. But I am not to keep. And I am past the point in my life where I am just an object to grope or seduce. I don't want that anymore. I gave it all up to have the real deal. But I'm not so sure I will have that in my life. Ever.
This I know now. No one will love my kids and their noise and their chaos, and I understand that now. Because that is only something that you put up with when those kids came from your body and you love them unconditionally and you think their shit don't stink. They are perfect only to me.
I am not rich. I am not fancy. I am not from a well to do family. I am getting older and I'm not prime material for motherhood. I am not yet stable. I am not good on paper. Why would anyone take the chance? They will all see me as you did. They will find my flaws and back away. If they even make it that far.
You may replace me. You could replace me in an instant should you want to.
But, there is no woman out there that will not eventually ask you for the same things I asked you for. I wanted you to listen to me, to validate my feelings by just hearing me out. Just "contemplating the meaning of life" with me from time to time. I wanted your friendship. I wanted to reach the stars together. There is no woman out there that will say "Let's do all the feelings another time. I'm tired and don't really want to get into it." They will all want to further their goals in life with you. To buy a house, to raise a family. Watch out, Jason if they're in their late 30's and don't have children because then their hormones will be raging and their baby making energy on high alert. (If you don't want more children JUST SAY THAT IN THE BEGINNING!) They will want to plan vacations and make lists of goals and visit with realtors and mortgage brokers and make plans and open bank accounts and..... Build the future. With you. They will all want that.
Or
You could have a string of sexual partners whom you never have to get emotionally attached to. And then you'll never have to introduce them to Sam. And you can keep him safe. And yourself safe. And you will never have to open up your heart again to anyone.
Regardless, I mention this because I thought about it while I was making dinner Sunday night. after a photoshoot I planned to have you be present for was over. And the sun went down. I listened to this song by Kaleo called "All the Pretty Girls" and it is about you. Exactly.
I will not get over you. And I will not get up and dust myself off and move on. Because I know what it's like to walk away from a ten year marriage. By the time he left I was SO GLAD to get rid of him. Paint the house, clean, and clear. the. air. I was so excited to get on with living, even if I was alone! I wasn't scared! I was excited! I didn't even like him by the end.
Maybe in this weekend you have felt the same way. Finally! all of the drama and the hardship has vanished! Finally all the demands and nagging and constant needing is gone. It must be liberating and bring you so much clarity. It must be nice and quiet and controlled at home.
I once read the book "He's Just Not That Into You" and it made no sense to me. These girls were obviously annoying and they wanted the guy to be infatuated with them. They had all these annoying needs and they couldn't figure out why the guy couldn't meet their needs. They moved too fast and wanted to be married in an instant.... The guy didn't call them back. Avoided anything serious.
Wait.
You're just not that into me. I know you said you loved me so many times but.... What did you love? The dinner on the table when you got home? The fact that I cleaned everyone's ears so you didn't have to? The warm body next to you in bed? Because the fine, particular, intricate details about ME that make me different from any other girl you've ever been with or will ever be with? Those are the things that you dislike about me.
Everything that makes me who I am are the things that you despise. The things you harp on me about. The things you say I "need help" with. The things that you read clinical articles about and want to cure me of. My risky finances 'veiled' as "entrepreneurship." The things that you literally poke fun of! Those are my best attributes! Those are the things that fuel the soul inside my core. They are what make me. They inspire other people. Just not you.
So you're not into me. But you chose me and there I was living in your home. It makes sense to me that your resentment would build and you'd begin to let it show. The irony is that while I make a big crashing sound when I criticize you, with my loud voice or angry words, your form of venting is like mustard gas.
You make jokes to my face. You make jokes in front of friends. You laugh as you tell me a deeply critical thing and then say you're kidding or say "you know I'm right." You slowly made me doubt myself and hate myself. You always took an opportunity to knock me down a peg. You broke me down, always denying me my ability to ask for your friendship, because I wasn't graceful with the timing of my ask. My harmless suggestions of ways of seeing that would help you fulfill your dreams or recover from loss-- those were 'New Age bullshit!' My parenting style made your skin crawl. My books and coaching and dogmas. My risky, irresponsible lifestyle you urged me to quit and change and flip flop and go backwards; though I've spent my whole life getting ready to be where I am right now in my career! You made me feel like I was manipulative and cutting when I just wanted to say how I felt-- I wanted to be heard-- I was dying to get your attention and have you just heard me so I said it as loudly as possible hoping you'd quiet down and think about my vantage point. You made me into a monster, though you never took the time to see from my point of view. You never allowed yourself to step into my shoes. You don't see yourself as wrong. Only me.
I am left wondering, WHAT did you ever see in me?
And WHY. Why did you bring me into your world?
Such a waste of time to end with such a climax of emotions whilst we could have avoided all of this. I uprooted my home and my family to devote myself to you. I took a human being, a child, who was not mine and made him so. Put every ounce of my character into loving him as if I were his mom. I cherished you and him and wanted to improve your home and your life... I gave my greatest effort yet! And I sacrificed so much time. Hours and days that I could have spent loving my own children more. Getting to know them better, being involved with their hobbies or school, rather than putting so much pressure on making it work with you. So many tears trying to make it work. Trying to be everything to you. Trying to be enough for you. Like if I had tried hard enough to please you I would finally, finally win.
There is no winning with you. I was always. Always. Always going to fail. Even if I was perfect! All the time!
Because your pain is so deep you cannot see straight. I think what you want is to bring her back. And because you can't nothing will ever do.
But, she is gone. And she'd hopefully be the first person to tell you that the best thing you had going just packed up and moved away. I would have gone to the moon and back for you and Sam. Why can't you see that? I lived to support her memory. I gave you so much space to continue to love her. I supported you in your grief and loved you independent of it.
So, I think. "He's just not that ... into the into you." He's into the idea of you- A woman to take the place and fill the void. But not the real you. The real you falls short in so many ways. I can't dwell on what I am not. Who I am not. Who I can never be. And how because of that I'll never have you.
And so, I'd rather put my hand in my pocket. And clutch my phone. And hope that a friend calls to check up on me. And admire the yellow leaves and the beauty in the world. The little angel voices of my kids calling me "Mommy! I found an orange one!" and collect the leaves with them. Than think for one more minute about you.
No one will ever be enough for you. Until you can let go. And feel all the pain and sadness. And really open your heart. And be unsafe. And be uncertain. Be vulnerable. Be ready to lose it all again. Be ready to have the best love of your entire life. And let go of the guilt of having moved on. The guilt of having been the one to survive. And risk. And fail. And admit you were wrong. And try again.
I will not be here to watch you go through that metamorphosis. Because I know now that you're not ready. And I can't wait for a year or two or three until you are. I have my whole life ahead of me. I have too many dreams that I'd like to get busy making come true. I have too many paintings to paint, to many adventures to take, too many sunsets to admire. I refuse to play it safe in my fortress of responsibility and solitude. I refuse to let another year go by unhappy. I'd rather be alone than with someone and lonely.
A father before he died said to his son: “this is a watch your grandfather gave and this is more than 200 years old, but before I give it to you go to the watch shop on the first street, and tell him I want to sell it, and see how much it is”.
He went and then came back to his father, and said, "the watchmaker paid 5 dollars because it's old”.
He said to him : “go to the coffee shop”. He went and then came back, and said: “He paid $5 father”.
“Go to the museum and show that watch." He went then came back, and said to his father “They offered me a million dollars for this piece”.
The father said: “I wanted to let you know that the right place values your value in a way right, don't put yourself in the wrong place and get angry if you don't. Who knows your value is who appreciates you, don't stay in a place that doesn't suit you".
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