WARNING: I did say that sometimes my readers would have a window to my very human emotions. This is one of those moments and it’s not pleasant. For all the sensitive souls out there who would rather not feel this with me, please be forewarned. This is quite a violent unleashing. I promised myself I would avoid censoring myself in this forum, and so today I fulfill that promise; nervous and anxious about it though I am. It’s a brave thing to express how it is in raw and unadulterated form, warts and all. For those of you who understand that to be truly spiritual is to embrace all facets of our personage, read on. We’re all in this life together, for better or worse.
Dear X,
YOU SUCK.
I hate that I’m so angry right now. I hate that my mind is thinking up all the terrible things I can do to you to make myself feel better. Like that’s going to work? I know it won’t, but still my madness rants and raves. Who knew I had such a vicious shadow. Actually, I did. But it takes a major asshole to bring it out. I hate being lied to. More than that, I hate it when a person is so damned oblivious to the mask they hold up to the world that they don’t take responsibility for their own life. I guess it’s pretty impossible to be honest with a partner if you can’t find the courage to honest with yourself. Hurting others is the by-product.
I am furious that you could be so self-absorbed as to come back into our lives, promising the world, saying you loved me, that you loved us, and then give us a measly 6-ish weeks of your life to ‘try again’. That’s so unfair. You didn’t give us even half a chance. Me and my kids loved you and you’ve allowed your misery to stomp on their innocent hearts, and mine – all because you’re so f$&king afraid of yourself, of taking responsibility for your own happiness, of even believing that you get to choose what you make of life.
What pisses me off even more is that I allowed you back in. My bad. Not fully though, because my intuition told me ‘go easy’. My inner voice valued the beautiful new way of life I’ve spent the last 6 months creating without you way too much to give it up for anyone.
The thing that really gets to me is that you knew the score. We talked at length about it before you chose to come back. You came back knowing that things had to be different, and we agreed to take it slow and give ourselves the best chance to make it work this time. You broke our deal and for that I am MAD – mad that I almost believed that It was my fault, and mad that you’re blaming your wretchedness and suffering on our relationship. Take a look at yourself…as if there was nothing wrong with the rest of your life? How dare you insinuate that your destructive thought processes are my doing.
No one has that much power over another person. It’s all in YOUR head.
I’ve reflected on our last 6 weeks over the past couple of days and I honestly know I did my best. I gave all I could give and loved you whilst maintaining the things that keep me and the kids healthy and happy. It was never going to be enough for you and yes, it was hard. It took all of my strength not to slide back into your black abyss. You said you love me, but you love misery more. You’re addicted to it. It consumes every shred of light around you. Frankly, I’m glad you’re gone.
My sister said “you can never go back”.
I didn’t believe her. I wanted to believe you. That was my mistake. But this is the ultimate closure and an amazing gift. Thanks to the mirror of your presence in my life, I can see now how far I’ve come. We couldn’t possibly have stayed together. You no longer reflect any part of the real me. Not even my violent shadow is as self-destructive as your entire composition.
How horrible it must be for you to hate yourself and your life so much. I remember what that was like. I was around 25 when I was last dwelling full time in that kind of state. Not anymore. I haven’t been like you for years. But I needed to realise it, and release that 25 year old me. She’s resolved now and at peace. That was your gift.
Of course, I can see where I still need to work harder to break free from my chrysalis and fly. But I’m really close now. As much as my wounding, my 25 year old pain body screams and tears at my mind, scratching and clawing to get out and rent at your skin, I know that it’s not the real me. I can stand back and observe, knowing my true self is the one that you won’t get the chance to know. I’m sad about that too. I wonder: will there ever be a man in my life who is ‘man enough’ to know himself and grow with me? I hope so. I am fully prepared to be on my own if that’s what the universe has in mind though.
The thing is, I like myself and I enjoy my own company. I love my space. In fact, even in my raging and pain, I can accept myself. Maybe I even love me. I must, because I knew I had to hold firm to my beliefs and values in the face of powerful incentive to back down. I’ve done enough work to get to that point. I handled our parting horribly, but i am not sorry. I’m proud of myself for how far I’ve come and one lapse into pain body doesn’t define me.
Whilst our parting has awakened my wounded monster, her surge of wrath will be brief and I will quickly return to my centre, my heart, my true essence. I already feel myself shifting. I’ve become practised at that now and it won’t take long. Of that I am confident, and the thought of it brings a quiet to my core as I type. The idea of returning to ‘home’ soothes me and calms my spirit, like the exquisite beauty of stroking my children’s hair as they sleep. You’ve given that up. And I’m sorry for you. I’m sad for us that it didn’t work out, but so relieved to be rid of your energy drain.
The kids and I are resilient. I told them you had decided to leave. They weren’t surprised. My children amaze me. They’re so intuitive, so sensitive, so aware. They knew something was up with us. They could feel it, even if words weren’t forming in their minds, their behaviour had been reflecting it. They knew.
The next morning (after I screamed at you in a fit of desperate pain and searing heat) was a great morning. It was like a huge, black, heavy blanket had lifted from our home. You tried to steal our light to bolster your own lack. You failed and so you had to leave. We were all so light and relieved and relaxed after your energy dissipated. It was our best morning in weeks. My baby girl is bouncy and bright again, my boy isn’t afraid of the dark anymore and sleeping on his own. You leaving was literally an overnight cure – so in a way I am grateful. You’ve saved us from months, possibly years, of agony and upset. I’m so relieved that my children won’t be poisoned by your gloom for one more day.
I wish I could say I hope you’ll be okay. Right now I’m not feeling it. But since I began writing, the mind has slowed and I can feel my heart again. It oscillates wildly between hurt and harmony, but at least I can feel it. I know eventually I will forgive you and wish you the best and that my heart will find its own rhythm again. I have my closure. You’re gone for good and there is no going back. My sister was right but I had to try. As painful as rejection is, I had to give it my best and now I can move on knowing for sure in my heart that I did everything I could and perhaps this isn’t my fault. Perhaps I am not the problem. Just maybe, I am not as broken as I’ve believed all these years. I’ll know what to do in my next relationship (wow, I’m open to a ‘next relationship’) and I will no longer attract the broken parts of me in masculine form.
So this is for you; a letter to the dead. I’m glad you’re gone. Now, we can both move on.
I hope one day you embrace the world’s light. I have seen the side of despair and desolation. If you let it, it can kill.
I pray that you’ll find a way to love yourself. No other being will ever love you that much. You can’t fill the cracks in your heart with another.
I want for you that your path is found. A mind blinded by poverty will only find dead ends. Believe there are other ways.
I send angels to your side because you need them. Perhaps they can guide you through the blackness of your night. Be at peace.
I’m excited about my future. I always was, whether you were in it or not. That’ hasn’t changed., no matter the pain. I am looking forward to the marvels and miracles that await me and my children. I will continue to grow. I will continue to absorb and emit the light. Nothing can stop that. No one can take that away.
It’s inevitable. It’s eternal. It’s who I am.
Integrating The Multifaceted Being 