It’s been about 10 years now since you left, and for some silly, crazy reason I sometimes think of you.
When you dumped me on an answering machine my life fell apart. You know, the usual shit that people go through when relationships end without proper closure.
You never had the courage to talk to me again. Never. Not even once after that answering machine message. Not a word. Nothing. From one day to the next, it was the end.
You know, I gave up everything for you. Everything. A profitable business, my claim on the house I had with my partner, friends, family and all my social contacts. I moved interstate. I even compromised my personal principles and told you things that I was obliged not to tell. All of it gone. Nothing left.
I know I was not easy but you as an adult should have known as well as I did that when you have an affair and stupidly fall in love with someone, it’s not going to be easy. If you didn’t know that, then you were a fool. In fact, if you don’t understand this, then you’re an idiot and I was even a bigger fool for believing I actually had found love.
If by some insane chance you read this and realize this is for you and who wrote it, I’m sure you’ll have a number of excuses about how badly I treated you, but just think of this. At the end what did I have and what did you have?
You had your house. You had your pet. You had your friends. You still even had your job. By contrast I had nothing, I even lost half my lousy pension.
In the beginning I would have done anything to have you back. Later, as time went by, I stupidly hoped that we would at least have some type of contact. Later still, as much as I was finally accepting that I would never see or hear from you again, I hoped that our paths would briefly cross.
How silly of me.
Today, as I write this, I wonder what I would say if I met you. I suppose it would be something like:
“Thank you for getting me out of a very bad relationship and thank you for ending ours like you did. I went through hell afterwards and did some silly things, but I eventually found who I really am.” “You always asked if you were a good person and I always obliged and gave you the answer you wanted to hear by saying Yes you are a good person, but the truth is, No. You’re not a good person. In fact you’re a bad person and you have issues.” “Hey, wasn’t I naïve? You know, when you left, I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t even know what was true anymore or whom to trust. Eventually, I worked it out.”
“I hope you have a good life. I hope that life is easy for you and that you found what you were looking for. Sorry if I sound bitter. I’m not really. Not any more. I’ve forgiven you but it has been hard to forget.” “I hope you didn’t hurt anyone else in your travels through life. I genuinely hope this, but I’m sad to say, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. I just hope they weren’t hurt as badly as I was.”
“Now fuck off. Don’t want to see you again. Hey! Don’t look shocked, too much water has gone under the bridge for you to act so wounded. Don’t ‘drama queen’, you’re a grown up, remember. Time for that is over.“
Yes. I think something like that is what I’d like to say to you.
Maybe I’d be nicer, then again, maybe not.
All the best.
