Broken Letter of swallowed words
Hey there.
The moment I started typing this letter I wondered what would you think of all I am writing? Would it change how you feel? Would it cause pain or discomfort? My first impression is that you would become infuriated, enraged for being exposed, even though there is no way that anyone would recognize you. I think you remember, I am nothing. I am no one. Rest assured, in years probably no one but me will remember that you existed in my life.
As I grow stronger, more able to deal with the vicissitudes of my daily life, I feel that our relationship changes as well. The less I complain, the closer you feel. But that doesn’t solve it all. There is a lingering shadow. You are constantly putting my love to test, our relationship in jeopardy. We are living on a shaky ground, one that already has too many problems. Yesterday you called me “boyfriend”. It was so unusual, so unheard of. It almost felt weird. I think I am becoming used to being “no one”.
Becoming accustomed to be lurking in the shadows, not being recognized as the “significant other” that I reasonably expect to be, is potentially bad. Either I will get tired of it and just leave or this relationship will crumble in itself. And for that matter, I am not happy right now. I feel sad. It hurts.
You complained about being far away from me. I too suffer. I didn’t choose to be away from you, I asked you to be with me. It involves sacrifices, I know, one that you expressly told me you were unwilling to do. I accepted and made everything possible for this to work. Our arrangement of my monthly travels across the country to see you was made to make this relationship possible. And yet you say it is not enough. You say you can’t be happy with my arrival knowing I will soon go away again. This is utterly unreasonable: it is as almost as if you were not to enjoy someone’s company because they will eventually die. As if you can’t enjoy a movie because it will end. And that tells me a lot about you.
Your ambivalence hurts me in many ways. You once told me you wanted to marry me, to have kids with me. But then you took it away, arguing that you are not the first wife, your kids would not be the first ones. What kind of life is that? Only the first love matters? Only the first experience counts? I know that every experience is different and wonderful in itself. Your pragmatism is distorted to support your unattainable fantasies of how a marriage and life should be. How do I know that? Because the previous man was single, unmarried, with no kids, and you didn’t want his child at first. You interrupted the pregnancy. And after that you decided you still wanted to marry him, potentially have a family with him. This doesn’t make sense. It only construes a sense that you have an idealized view of how a man and a relationship should be, one that it is impossible to reach.
Every step I take into this journey of realizing that you don’t want me takes me further away from you. When you expressly said that leaving me is a possibility, I bled. Now I understand why you didn’t like “too good at good byes”. You’re doing exactly that to me. Leaving me, hurting me, so that it doesn’t hurt, so I don’t feel too much pain. Well, just be aware that you are torturing me. Not being sure if you are going to be with me tomorrow morning is a maddening experience. You are making me regret having introduced you to my children. How am I going to explain to them that you are gone, shortly after you decided to be here? It is not your problem, it is mine. I only wanted you to know what your doing to me and to them. This should not stop you from doing what you want and what you like, but you have to understand the consequences.
The consequences are a confused six year old and a broken hearted man. My one year old won’t remember you if he sees you again in five years or so. But I have to tell you what you have done. What you are doing. You are breaking me. The pieces may not form the “old me”, and this “new me” is going to be completely different. Yes, I am fully aware that I am allowing this to happen. I am slowly closing the door for you. I just wanted to know if you are going to enter or remain outside.
