dear xxxxxxx,
i hate your face. goodbye forever.
sincerely,
me
...
what?
...
what do you mean i can't write that? who says?
...
apparently, "civilized" people show more grace than that. so i need a rewrite then?
you really want a rewrite?
...
FINE.
-------
dearxxxxxxx,
we know each other so fucking well that when i ran into you the other day, all i had to do was look in your eyes to know that you knew that i knew. too much knowing, don't you think? but now i really know: it's true. i can't pretend that this is just an accusation with details living in smoke & shadows, & i can't blindly deny anything, hoping that against all sickening odds that you're innocent of the charges. & this is where the adult in me is supposed to know how to adjudicate my feelings. in reality, i know nothing.
you want to know what i used to tell people? there was a time when i cared so fucking much that i promised i'd take you in, if random whatevers had happened. i told them that. i really did. because of who you were to me, i decided that i would give you everything that i could to help you make it, even a vow based on the wildest improbability that you would ever need me like that. i didn't care. i was fucking ready. i'd have done it in a heartbeat.
why does today have to be any different? sure, if you hadn't screwed up so fucking hardcore, you'd be on your own two feet anyway, finding your path, which is how it should be. you hear that? how it should be. but you know, "should be" isn't going to do anyone any good anymore. your choice has hijacked more than one person's future, & these aren't stories that we can go back & edit. "should be" no longer has meaning.
i'm grateful for one thing at least--that this actually happened years ago & wasn't something you did yesterday. i have cause to be angry at teenage stupidity, not enraged at adult malice. thank God for that. when it comes to mind, i can say, "he was a stupid, messed up kid who was stupid & stupidly did something stupid." but at the same time, you weren't so fucking stupid that you didn't know it was wrong. i didn't guide you to be that colossally ignorant, & neither did anyone else around you. we all raised you to get what was wrong & what was right. you were better than that. you are better than that. aren't you?
straight up--you've broken my heart. you've broken a sacred trust. you have broken my understanding of who you've always been as a person because you made this choice just as our bond was deepening. it was accelerating toward its greatest point, & i had no idea. your deceit cuts so fucking deep, but i guess there is no way you could have known that you would be hurting me, too. i ask without irony--did you know that i have my own secrets? because of my own skeletons, i know exactly how she feels. when i hear that she blames herself for what's happening to you now, i get it. to have the full knowledge that another person i know has to endure what i did without the help & resources i had--just saying that it's hard is a fucking joke. that doesn't even begin to cover the difficulty. to also have had her in my life is even worse. i know both parties. my words are starting to lose focus because what you have done pulls me in so many different directions. even if we weren't speaking of what you've done to her, are you satisfied with what you've done to everyone else? for all the care you've shown me, you're now tearing me apart. are you okay with that?
this morning, someone i trust implicitly said that you & your victim need all possible support. [yes, he did connect you & she that way. get used to it. you've victimized someone. there's no walking away from that.] his statement makes me want to vomit. being there for her & helping her is an absolute no-brainer. i'm sure she'd be mortified at my knowledge of what happened, but i would give her anything i could to help her. she'll have to walk through hell to move beyond what you've done, & i don't want her to walk alone. i desperately hope that someone closer to her will be brave enough to never leave her side. but you. support you? i'm supposed to be there? really? for you, too? do you understand that i am so fucking angry at you? so thoroughly revolted by your actions? so horribly revolted with myself because i ultimately cannot be done with you & cut you off, despite your guilt?
i want to do "what's easy" & what "seems" to be the only way to justice for her. my sense of survivor's solidarity fiercely urges me to resign you to hell & let your guilt haunt you for the rest of your life. it says that if i show you any sliver of kindness, i will hurt her that much more. but what kills me is that i'm not made of stone. my mind screams at the thought of someone granting the person who victimized me such forgiveness, & i rage & rage, infuriated that, seen from a different perspective, even he might deserve a shred of grace. so i guess it comes out now: you're forcing me to see the other side. if i can't abandon you outright because i know you're more than your mistakes, then it destroys the conclusions that have required blood, sweat, & years for me to construct. i hate you for that. i really do.
i don't know what else to say.
jb
i hate your face. goodbye forever.
sincerely,
me
...
what?
...
what do you mean i can't write that? who says?
...
apparently, "civilized" people show more grace than that. so i need a rewrite then?
you really want a rewrite?
...
FINE.
-------
dear
we know each other so fucking well that when i ran into you the other day, all i had to do was look in your eyes to know that you knew that i knew. too much knowing, don't you think? but now i really know: it's true. i can't pretend that this is just an accusation with details living in smoke & shadows, & i can't blindly deny anything, hoping that against all sickening odds that you're innocent of the charges. & this is where the adult in me is supposed to know how to adjudicate my feelings. in reality, i know nothing.
you want to know what i used to tell people? there was a time when i cared so fucking much that i promised i'd take you in, if random whatevers had happened. i told them that. i really did. because of who you were to me, i decided that i would give you everything that i could to help you make it, even a vow based on the wildest improbability that you would ever need me like that. i didn't care. i was fucking ready. i'd have done it in a heartbeat.
why does today have to be any different? sure, if you hadn't screwed up so fucking hardcore, you'd be on your own two feet anyway, finding your path, which is how it should be. you hear that? how it should be. but you know, "should be" isn't going to do anyone any good anymore. your choice has hijacked more than one person's future, & these aren't stories that we can go back & edit. "should be" no longer has meaning.
i'm grateful for one thing at least--that this actually happened years ago & wasn't something you did yesterday. i have cause to be angry at teenage stupidity, not enraged at adult malice. thank God for that. when it comes to mind, i can say, "he was a stupid, messed up kid who was stupid & stupidly did something stupid." but at the same time, you weren't so fucking stupid that you didn't know it was wrong. i didn't guide you to be that colossally ignorant, & neither did anyone else around you. we all raised you to get what was wrong & what was right. you were better than that. you are better than that. aren't you?
straight up--you've broken my heart. you've broken a sacred trust. you have broken my understanding of who you've always been as a person because you made this choice just as our bond was deepening. it was accelerating toward its greatest point, & i had no idea. your deceit cuts so fucking deep, but i guess there is no way you could have known that you would be hurting me, too. i ask without irony--did you know that i have my own secrets? because of my own skeletons, i know exactly how she feels. when i hear that she blames herself for what's happening to you now, i get it. to have the full knowledge that another person i know has to endure what i did without the help & resources i had--just saying that it's hard is a fucking joke. that doesn't even begin to cover the difficulty. to also have had her in my life is even worse. i know both parties. my words are starting to lose focus because what you have done pulls me in so many different directions. even if we weren't speaking of what you've done to her, are you satisfied with what you've done to everyone else? for all the care you've shown me, you're now tearing me apart. are you okay with that?
this morning, someone i trust implicitly said that you & your victim need all possible support. [yes, he did connect you & she that way. get used to it. you've victimized someone. there's no walking away from that.] his statement makes me want to vomit. being there for her & helping her is an absolute no-brainer. i'm sure she'd be mortified at my knowledge of what happened, but i would give her anything i could to help her. she'll have to walk through hell to move beyond what you've done, & i don't want her to walk alone. i desperately hope that someone closer to her will be brave enough to never leave her side. but you. support you? i'm supposed to be there? really? for you, too? do you understand that i am so fucking angry at you? so thoroughly revolted by your actions? so horribly revolted with myself because i ultimately cannot be done with you & cut you off, despite your guilt?
i want to do "what's easy" & what "seems" to be the only way to justice for her. my sense of survivor's solidarity fiercely urges me to resign you to hell & let your guilt haunt you for the rest of your life. it says that if i show you any sliver of kindness, i will hurt her that much more. but what kills me is that i'm not made of stone. my mind screams at the thought of someone granting the person who victimized me such forgiveness, & i rage & rage, infuriated that, seen from a different perspective, even he might deserve a shred of grace. so i guess it comes out now: you're forcing me to see the other side. if i can't abandon you outright because i know you're more than your mistakes, then it destroys the conclusions that have required blood, sweat, & years for me to construct. i hate you for that. i really do.
i don't know what else to say.
jb
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