A Letter to My Past
Comments are screened. This isn't a dialog, but I feel an avenue for input is necessary. Feel free to comment, regardless of who you are reading this. But don't expect a reply.
This is an open letter, because I really don't want to seek you out, and yet there are things that, nearly 10 years later, I feel the need to say. Things that I feel the need to put to rest. If you're reading this, you know who you are. Some of the people who can read this also know who you are, or at least what I'm talking about. And some people are just witness, even if they don't know to what they are witness.
I think about you from time to time, and wonder what you are up to and what is happening with your life. I figure maybe sometimes you do the same. If you do, you'll find this. If you don't, you won't. But, there are things I need to say before I can really let this go. And, really, it's time. I'm not a bitter person, and I'm tired of keeping this little kernel of bitterness inside of me, festering and being, well, bitter. So, in no particular order, here are some things you need to know.
First, just in case there is any curiosity, and because I want you to know it since, last we spoke, you were mostly hoping I was heading towards a life of regret and misery: My life is going well. I'm in my third year of vet school, and two years from now, I'll be a doctor. It was a long road, and I did some stupid things getting here, but I did eventually make it. But I've never done things the easy way anyway. Aside from my career success, I'm a generally happy person. I'm not even on medication anymore. I love who I am and what I've become, and I think I'm doing good things in the world. I work with the urban homeless, with animal shelters, and with wildlife. Aside from my veterinary stuff, I'm involved in local environmental activism. I'm a runner again, I climb walls, I go hiking. I don't smoke anymore, and I am in better health than I used to be. I'm also becoming an adept photographer. I'm going to start a garden. It's really hard for me to explain how I've grown since we knew each other, but I've come a long way. Somewhere along the line I grew up. And I'm glad for it.
In the same vein of growing up, I've also become a much stronger person since you last knew me. I'm worthwhile, and the people I keep company with recognize that and treat me well. And, in a way, I have you to thank for that.
You were a bastard. No, seriously. A bona fide son-of-a-bitch whose behavior towards me was deplorable, bordering on and crossing into abuse. And every time I think about what you did and how you treated me, I burn. I have a feeling that, given the chance, I would probably punch you in the face as soon as say hello. But, as part of letting that rage go, I'm instead going to say thank you. Because of you, I am a self-confident, self-supporting, independent woman. I've learned a lot from my time with you, and I have never allowed myself to be taken advantage of like that since. Simple things like keeping my own bank account and making sure I have the means to leave if I want to. And bigger things, too, like learning to be angry, learning to stand up for myself and learning that not everything is my fault. I will never let anyone call me a whore, ugly, fat or stupid again. I will not let anyone tell me what I can and cannot do with my body (and, along those lines, I've got a few more piercings). I will not be controlled, or belittled. Because, dammit, I'm fucking awesome. And I deserved better. I still do.
So, thank you, for your part in making me who I am. Because I really rather like her.
As much as I hate to concede anything to you, I do owe you an apology. We parted badly, and, while there is little in that situation that I actually regret, I do regret my lack of courage. I am sorry that I lacked the courage to just walk away, which would have saved us all a lot of trouble. I used Amber and Christian both as a means of ending our relationship. I don't regret what happened between myself and them, but I do regret that I found it necessary. More, I regret that, afterwards, I still lacked the courage to walk away. I regret the month of hanging on and misery we both endured, when I should have taken the opportunity afforded me. If I'd just said it was over from the start, I'd have saved us both a lot of pain. One of my most miserable memories is still the Samhain celebration, but it is also one of my fondest. I think it was then I realized that we really were doomed, and that, surrounded by my friends, I would be ok without you. Either way, though, it was my way out. And I will never regret taking it. I'm just sorry that it was the only option I felt I had available. I've learned that, too. I've grown a backbone in the last decade.
I wish I could say that I wish you well, but I don't. Really, honestly, I kind of wish your head would catch on fire, but getting past that is what this is about. What I hope for is acceptance. I can't change the past, or the memories I have, but I'd like to be able to look at them and not shake with rage. I'd like to not wonder what you're doing. You will always be a part of me; you were invaluable in creating the woman I am today. But you are not an active part of my life, and I'm done poking at an old scar to see if it still bleeds. It doesn't, so I should just leave it alone. I don't hate you, but I'm glad you're not a part of my life anymore.
This is an open letter, because I really don't want to seek you out, and yet there are things that, nearly 10 years later, I feel the need to say. Things that I feel the need to put to rest. If you're reading this, you know who you are. Some of the people who can read this also know who you are, or at least what I'm talking about. And some people are just witness, even if they don't know to what they are witness.
I think about you from time to time, and wonder what you are up to and what is happening with your life. I figure maybe sometimes you do the same. If you do, you'll find this. If you don't, you won't. But, there are things I need to say before I can really let this go. And, really, it's time. I'm not a bitter person, and I'm tired of keeping this little kernel of bitterness inside of me, festering and being, well, bitter. So, in no particular order, here are some things you need to know.
First, just in case there is any curiosity, and because I want you to know it since, last we spoke, you were mostly hoping I was heading towards a life of regret and misery: My life is going well. I'm in my third year of vet school, and two years from now, I'll be a doctor. It was a long road, and I did some stupid things getting here, but I did eventually make it. But I've never done things the easy way anyway. Aside from my career success, I'm a generally happy person. I'm not even on medication anymore. I love who I am and what I've become, and I think I'm doing good things in the world. I work with the urban homeless, with animal shelters, and with wildlife. Aside from my veterinary stuff, I'm involved in local environmental activism. I'm a runner again, I climb walls, I go hiking. I don't smoke anymore, and I am in better health than I used to be. I'm also becoming an adept photographer. I'm going to start a garden. It's really hard for me to explain how I've grown since we knew each other, but I've come a long way. Somewhere along the line I grew up. And I'm glad for it.
In the same vein of growing up, I've also become a much stronger person since you last knew me. I'm worthwhile, and the people I keep company with recognize that and treat me well. And, in a way, I have you to thank for that.
You were a bastard. No, seriously. A bona fide son-of-a-bitch whose behavior towards me was deplorable, bordering on and crossing into abuse. And every time I think about what you did and how you treated me, I burn. I have a feeling that, given the chance, I would probably punch you in the face as soon as say hello. But, as part of letting that rage go, I'm instead going to say thank you. Because of you, I am a self-confident, self-supporting, independent woman. I've learned a lot from my time with you, and I have never allowed myself to be taken advantage of like that since. Simple things like keeping my own bank account and making sure I have the means to leave if I want to. And bigger things, too, like learning to be angry, learning to stand up for myself and learning that not everything is my fault. I will never let anyone call me a whore, ugly, fat or stupid again. I will not let anyone tell me what I can and cannot do with my body (and, along those lines, I've got a few more piercings). I will not be controlled, or belittled. Because, dammit, I'm fucking awesome. And I deserved better. I still do.
So, thank you, for your part in making me who I am. Because I really rather like her.
As much as I hate to concede anything to you, I do owe you an apology. We parted badly, and, while there is little in that situation that I actually regret, I do regret my lack of courage. I am sorry that I lacked the courage to just walk away, which would have saved us all a lot of trouble. I used Amber and Christian both as a means of ending our relationship. I don't regret what happened between myself and them, but I do regret that I found it necessary. More, I regret that, afterwards, I still lacked the courage to walk away. I regret the month of hanging on and misery we both endured, when I should have taken the opportunity afforded me. If I'd just said it was over from the start, I'd have saved us both a lot of pain. One of my most miserable memories is still the Samhain celebration, but it is also one of my fondest. I think it was then I realized that we really were doomed, and that, surrounded by my friends, I would be ok without you. Either way, though, it was my way out. And I will never regret taking it. I'm just sorry that it was the only option I felt I had available. I've learned that, too. I've grown a backbone in the last decade.
I wish I could say that I wish you well, but I don't. Really, honestly, I kind of wish your head would catch on fire, but getting past that is what this is about. What I hope for is acceptance. I can't change the past, or the memories I have, but I'd like to be able to look at them and not shake with rage. I'd like to not wonder what you're doing. You will always be a part of me; you were invaluable in creating the woman I am today. But you are not an active part of my life, and I'm done poking at an old scar to see if it still bleeds. It doesn't, so I should just leave it alone. I don't hate you, but I'm glad you're not a part of my life anymore.