Sunday, March 18, 2018

Dear Robot

Next month will be two years since I left you. Two years since that day I
called you and told you that I would not be coming back home to you. What a
long two years it has been. I was such a broken person back then.
Everything in my life fell apart after I left you. Everything. The floor
fell out from underneath me and I wondered sometimes if I was going to make
it. It's been a long, arduous ascent to a place that I can consider to be
normalcy.

I'd like to genuinely thank you for showing me who you were when you did.
You shouldn't have waited until after we got married but thank God you
didn't wait until after we'd had children. Thank you for showing me who you
were soon enough for me to get out of it and not make a complete mess of my
life and any other person's who might have come along into our little world
of hell. I'm grateful that you chose to no longer hide it. Well maybe you
just got tired. Four and a half years is a long time to be a hypocrite.

Thank you too, for showing me, for defining for me so acutely, so concisely,
and so precisely what I DO NOT want in a relationship. Ever. Ever again.
Thank you for being the exact opposite of everything I had ever hoped and
dreamed of in a marriage, and in a husband. Thank you too, for never truly
treating me as your wife and never giving me the rightful place I deserved
in your life. For placing me third or fourth on the totem pole of those
things deemed important in your life. I know it sounds like I'm being
sarcastic but honestly I'm not. I learnt so much from being with you. And
after I left you, I realised that I'd been given a second chance at
happiness. And I grabbed it.

I've done a lot of work on myself in these past two years. I've grown in
leaps and bounds and become the person I've always wanted to be. I'm the
most authentic I have ever been. More comfortable in my skin than I have
ever been. I look great. I feel great. And I am happy. Not everything is
perfect in my life. Some things are far from. But I can deal with them.
All in all, life is pretty good.

But the reason I'm really writing you this letter is to thank you for
preparing me for the one that I have now. He is, in short, everything I
have ever wanted and more. He is loving, and kind, and gentle and sweet and
adoring. He worships me and would do anything for me. And I love him. He
makes me a better person. He makes me want to be everything you tried to
force me to be. But with him it is effortless. But more importantly, he
doesn't need me to change a thing about myself. He loves me exactly as I
am. He delights in me. And he's proud of me. He's made it all better.
And for the first time in my life, I understand what it feels like to want
to have children with someone. And to want to grow old with someone. And
to not feel resigned to your future, but excited and full of hope and
optimism. I've met my true soul mate. And I want to thank you. For being
so wrong for me. Because if you hadn't been so wrong for me I might still
be with you. And I'd have missed my true calling. So I'm grateful for
everything you are and everything you did because you see...in the end it
was SO worth it.

Your soon to be Ex-Wife

Dear Christopher

For the past week straight I have dreamt about you. I have also sat straight up in bed, eyes wide, shaking and dry mouthed from them. They are so real and so vivid that it almost makes me panic a little.

You and I always got a kick out of each others dreams, because when we were together, when ever one of us would dream about one, the same night the other also had a dream about one too. It makes me wonder if you have also been dreaming about me too; if you wake up shivering and in alarm too. Do you?

My life has been such a huge ball of empty since the day we broke up. To this very second I can’t even remember that awful day at all. But I remember the good thing; coming to see you, spending weekends at your house, watching cartoons all night, baking cookies, and so many other things. You always had me laughing, sometimes to the point where my stomach would hurt. I would gasp for breaths in between laughs begging to you stop, but instead of stopping you would sweep me right off my feet and cradle me in your arms.

Compared to you, I am so little, hence the reason you called me tiny. But you are gorgeous; tall, at least six foot five. Which is giant compared to me at measly five one. Snowboarding gave you a great body, and your eyes were ice blue and I swear they lit up when you smiled. I felt safest in your arms. I knew you loved me; it is the only thing that I will ever be sure of.

Now here we are, coming close to a year later; you are now 18 and I am 20. I have moved away and you are starting college soon. I missed your birthday, prom, graduation; all the things I swore to you I would be there for. But you missed things for me too. In basic, I felt so alone, you never wrote me and when I called you were too busy to talk to me. You didn’t come to my graduation and you fought with me during my first few weeks of tech school.

I knew it was wrong for me to have asked you to wait for me; I knew all our plans of staying together and getting married would be short lived the second I left your arms the night of January 8th. You were crying and I was hysterical, I was shaking and trembling. I think it is because deep down, I knew, I knew that it would be the very last time you held me and kissed me.

Since you have been out of my life, it has been raining; in my heart, in my mind, in my soul. I would give anything just to see you again, just to hear your voice. Without you in my life, I have felt so empty. You are my best friend, my lover, my smile, my laugh, and you hold my heart; whether you know it or not.

I have come to terms with the fact that, I may never see you or talk to you again. I have been moving on with my life, my career is great and my life is happy. But I know that until the day I take my very last breath, I will regret for as long as I live, that night in March that I let you slip through my fingers.

I love you more than anything, Christopher.

A Note to Self

I've put everything off.
All of my friends are off to college.
And I am at home.
Unemployed---
and Unenrolled.
I hope everything works out.
I am not sorry for my past, but I am now worried for my future.

Dear Lyndsey

You are the best friend I have ever had, and probably will ever have.

Thank you

Monday, March 7, 2011

Dear Little Moon

Soon you will celebrate your fifth birthday. I won't say that it doesn't seem possible because it does. In fact, you sometimes act wise beyond the five years and your wondering questions send a shock through me. Already, you are curious about death, God, love and old age. I don't know how you are handling it, but I am exhausted now just recalling our conversations. I stumble over what to say to you because so much of those things are still a wonder to me. I want to give you solid answers, but I find I am incapable of lying to you. There are a lot of "I don't know"s tossed out there by me and I have to hope it will be enough until I can come up with a way to explain such things. Will that day come?

Speaking of world peace and such, your favorite cartoon is Pink Panther. Yesterday you told me that you wish he could come live with us so that you could teach him some manners and so he wouldn't bother "the white guy" in the show. I love that you have no idea how that sentence sounds. At this point in your life you have no idea what racism or sexism or homophobia is. You picked a Barbie with your Ma Lynn at the store and later pointed out to her that the Barbie was black. Just something you noticed at the later moment during play. This Barbie has on a pink shirt and she's black. You have also mentioned that two of your dolls are in love with each other, that you don't understand slavery (even after I explained it to you) and that daddies really should be allowed to stay at home like mommies. Now if I could just put you in a bubble and keep you this way forever, I could sleep at night.

You truly are a beautiful girl, into much of the typical little girl things like the color pink, princesses and fairies. You are into all the things I was not, which has got to be some sort of karma bouncing back. There are many days that I wish my sister were here so she could squeal in delight with you at the Disney Store. I wish she was telling you that her bedroom was pink and that she loved her Baby Alive Doll. You two would be quite the pair. But until we move closer to my family, I am able to avoid that inevitable awkward conversation when you learn that I used my Barbie Townhouse as shelving for my books.

That's not to say that we don't have the strongest of bonds. In your insecure times, I get you. You say a sentence of angst and I understand it in the core of my chest. You don't like being away from me or your dad at all. Not even for school. I was that kid too. Would rather have stayed at home with my mom any day rather than go to school. Even when I had friends Even if school was fun. However... you have to go. One day you will see that as a simple truth and you will be glad your dad and I make you go.

You are a shy one. Many tears are shed over large family gatherings and school performances. You might never be the first girl to run onto a stage but you will be the girl who appreciates the applause, loves the show and comes back for more. It takes you a while to warm up to anything that involves you being the center of attention. As a self proclaimed backstage worker, I get that too but sometimes it's hard because, as your mom, I am so proud of you, think you are so talented that it's hard for me to not want you right there in front where everyone can experience the marvel that is you.

Speaking of those talents, you are a great singer. You learn the words, you hit the notes and you truly enjoy singing. You also have an uncanny ability to mimic accents and remember movie lines as well as any movie buff I know. I try not to cry like a fool when you sing a song from my youth because you learned it from Shrek. But when you dance around the room to London Calling, I think your father and I both feel like we have done something so very right that tears are appropriate.

Your sense of style is whimsical. You love a glitter here, a ruffle there. Matching colors are irrelevant and comfort is key. I like that about you. I like that you see clothes as fun and have no desire to copy anyone else. I hear that changes, but for now, I enjoy it.

In the last couple of months you have come into your role as sister to your little brother. I nearly had a stroke when I heard you say that he was your best friend. I clearly remember the not so distant past when you told me you didn't like being a big sister because it was too hard. Being the youngest in my family, I felt the need to explain the trials of being the younger sibling, which I think you took to mean "Mommy loves your brother better". Because it was not that long ago that you also asked me why I find him so adorable and not you anymore. That question nearly broke my heart and I wanted to call my mother for the 1000th time and apologize for my teen years. But if I fail you in other ways during this parenting gig, know that it is only because I was so intent on getting that part right. He is your friend. Ignore anyone else who says siblings can't be best friends. You can and you are. It will be the greatest thing in your life to have that true friend. Will he piss you off more than anyone else? Yes. Will he still be there when no one else is? Yes. But he adores you, that little guy. I see him trying out your words, your tricks. His cars talk to your princesses because he just wants to be near you. You sing and he smiles, you make a face and he laughs. Through all your future fights I will remind you of these days when he tells you that you are so pretty and funny and he hugs you because he knows you love him.

Your dad got me a Wii for Christmas. This is funny in itself - the notion that a gaming console is "mine". As if I would be the one using it the most. As with any other game I have played with you, your competitive nature rises up quickly during our bowling and sword fighting. Because of this, our biggest battle has been between your Win Or Flail and Cry attitude and my determination that you will not be a Quitter. It's all I can do to stop myself from quoting Martin Luther King Jr or Henry Ford or ... your grandfather - anything that will drive into your head that failing while trying is totally cool but giving up without giving it your all is... well, a path that leads to living in someone's basement well into your 30's.

Life has been good for you these five years, It's so good that your dad and I often wish were were you. And just when I think you don't get it, you tell me you NEVER want to grow up because you will have to grow old and stop playing like you do now. Today you even cried about it and told me that you want to be five years old, but you want to keep me always with you. I wish I had recorded that because when you start having to change my diapers one day, you might re-think that. But today I reveled in it. I love life through your eyes. And I love you more today than yesterday.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Dear Fiona

I know you cheated on me. And that you still are, probably. I gave up my entire life for you. My friends, my family, my house and my job. I was celibate for two years for you, spent thousands of pounds to travel thousands of miles to be with you. And this is how you repay me. With dishonesty, with lies and deceit. I would have loved you more than life itself. All you've ever done is mess me around and break my heart. I KNOW what you did, I KNOW what you're up to, and I will NEVER EVER forgive you.
I wish we'd never met.

Dear Robot

Next month will be two years since I left you. Two years since that day I called you and told you that I would not be coming back home to ...