A (1st draft) letter to my ex-wife... grendalkhan: Thanx to a close friend who provided the more scathing stings I don't think I could have devised myself - Thx Sheri
Opinions most welcome, and especially abut wether or not to send it...
************************************************************
Dorothy,
Every time I talked to your face – trying to get through to you, you were so emotionally distant that I was just waiting for you to dump me.
Again.
And you must know by now that the events of last November didn't make my own low self-esteem and insecurities feel any better. It made it all much, much worse. It felt like you dumped me because you couldn't deal with the money problems; something that I’ve been through, and you know how I feel about just amassing money. I was now scared, sick, and in grief. It felt like you didn't understand that at all, that you just wanted things to be happy again, although I was in mental hell. It felt like you weren't there for me; that you had no respect for the pain I was in. So I started shutting down. I started pushing you away. I felt like you would dump me at any moment after that; that you would never be able to deal with the crap of life, of which, it is inevitable. Life is full of problems, Dory. I started to self-preserve so you couldn't hurt me again, so if you dumped me again, I could get past it. My own fears of having a horrible marriage were compounded by all of that. I felt like if I did try and get back into the field and away from an office job that I only took because of you , you would be angry, and leave me. You'd think I had somehow let you down, and you'd let me down in the process. I was so scared of that, I cried on the phone with my mother on so many occasions, telling her that I was afraid you were going to leave me. I was with you, but I felt alone when I needed your support and reassurance the most.
It was hard not making love to you when I felt like you refused to acknowledge my needs for support back then. Making love, for me, is tied to that emotional/psychological bond. I always loved you, I always wanted to be with you in that way, I wanted to share myself with you, but the emotional/psychological damage was done and never fixed because of the crap I went through in Oakville. I felt like you refused to acknowledge my state of mind, my pain. I just needed you to be there and let me get through the hell with you by my side. I felt so incredibly disrespected, hurt and emotionally abandoned. I felt like I had to do it all by myself... that my partner couldn’t/wouldn’t be there. I only needed you to understand the hell I was in, my fears. That was all. I just needed you to tell me it was okay, that I was allowed my grief, that you would be there for all the tears, all the fears, that you would tell me I was still good enough, and understand that I was upset with good reason. You made me feel like my distraught was unwarranted; that I was being silly; that you were the one that needed the support to get through my problems. I needed you to help me get through my overwhelming fright. You don’t understand how scared I was that my life was over, you really didn’t. And even if you did, you refused to give me the support I so desperately, desperately wanted and needed from you. You became an impenetrable stone.
See below for Pt2 due to size limitations....
Re: A (1st draft) letter to my ex-wife... grendalkhan: PT 2
You never understood that I was just BARELY holding onto my sanity last November. I cried constantly, Dory, but rarely in front of you. I went to bed every night in tears. I sat at Flashman’s with Kevin and most times alone. I felt like after that night in December, you were telling me I wasn’t good enough, that I never would be; that I had to be some superman who could magically heal myself, forget my grief, and go back to being happy-go-lucky again. My life was in pieces, Dorothy. I turned to Kevin and friends because they understood; they empathized. They gave me the emotional and psychological support that I desperately craved from YOU. So I hid behind my friends to cover up my pain, to fill the emotional void, to cling to something, anything that would give me results for my efforts.
I wanted only to spend quality time with – but I stood back, hoping you would come out of your depression and look to me to be the support, JUST like I wanted from you! I took that as your desire to pull out. Then you lured me to your parents house for that “intervention”, after YOU told me that you wanted to keep this between us, and I respected that. I told you Iwasn’t good in social situations! It isn’t because I didn’t like your parents, though now your mother qualifies as someone I care never to see again. I felt like they hated me, they wanted me out of your life, BECAUSE I WANTED TO BE WITH MY DAUGHTER!!!. That HURT. I NEVER expected any help from them, but your mom’s declaration that our marriage was over was a dagger in my back nonetheless. I felt like your parents were saying the dreaded words: Tony is not good enough. I don’t harbour ill will toward your father, but your mother’s interference, since we decided to marry has done nothing but drive a wedge between us. How dare I say this? Because you went to them to tell them that OUR marriage wasn’t working for you, and you NEVER came to me – you complained, but you never ever told me how you really felt – just so you could have a reason to run again and not live up to the vows that I believed you meant. But perhaps they need to know how much that hurt me, assuming they care, and made me feel about myself..
Things just compounded as time progressed. The car accident didn’t help us- all I wanted was just for you to come running to be by my side – I understand why you didn’t, but yet again, it was feeling like you abandoned me when I needed you. I wanted to go to you for support, but was afraid it would be turned back on me again. So I pulled away that much more. I just wanted you to tell me everything was going to be okay, that was all. I cried so many times, my eyes felt swollen nearly every day. My God, last November messed everything up, Dorothy. While I wanted you to touch me, to hug me. I just wanted you to be there for me.
Re: A (1st draft) letter to my ex-wife... grendalkhan:
Pt 3
You had made it all seem so easy, the dump last year, and you did it AGAIN in Septmeber. You simply said: “I want you to move out.” I saw no emotion behind it. I wanted you back because I wanted to work things out. It didn’t work that way though, you were so wrapped up in your own needs that you didn’t realize I would be there for you if only you would allow me to deal with my own needs at the same time. I would have been happy to fulfill your needs and desires, but it had to work both ways. It didn’t happen that way though.
You made me feel like life stress and events were my fault. That I was being an idiot for ever being stressed, for ever being frightened and insecure. You need to know that I would have been there for you through anything. I would have loved you no matter what. But those times where you refused to acknowledge my upset and stress killed me. It killed us. You just greeted my low points with your own issues with my issues. It never occurred to you what I needed, even when I told you. Our issues together? It was me dealing with yours dealing with mine. Can you see that? It was never fair!
I was ALWAYS hopeful we could reconcile things. There was NEVER a time that I didn’t want a life with you. I kept hoping desperately that you could come to meet my emotional needs too. I kept up the desperate hope you would see how all of this was making me feel. I started gathering up my friends and separating them off from you for fear that this hurt would invade my friendships, too. I just wanted you and my friends to become close because they were my family when I was in such a crisis before I met you - I depended on my friends through this. They listened to my complaints, my fears and insecurities.I didn’t want to lose that.
You need to know that I am NOT a violent person. I do NOT enjoy yelling, screaming and being angry. I HATE feeling angry. I LOVE being happy. I LOVE laughing and being silly. I LOVE having a good time. I WANT to be happy all the time. But life circumstances didn’t allow it. I grew up in a very unattached home, which you know all about. And I have tried my absolute best to not repeat the mistakes of my parents. My fits of rage and my seeming over-reactions were a direct product of my previous insecurities. They were a product of my feeling alone and my inability to be open with you for fear of being hurt again. I am disgusted with myself for ever yelling at you, I am ashamed that I scared you because I never, ever wanted that to happen. I NEVER wanted to hurt you, I NEVER wanted to insult you, I NEVER wanted to betray you. But you need to know why those things happened, and where that anger came from. That anger came from FEAR. It hurt ME to be that way. I HATED MYSELF.
Re: A (1st draft) letter to my ex-wife... grendalkhan: You told me that you were afraid that I would hurt my baby, yet you never produced one reason why you thought I might – because what, we used to have a kinky life? So what!!! It isn’t the centre of my existence, but YOU AND JESS ARE!!! You pushed me to over-react when I never wanted to. It felt so disrespectful of my limitations as a person. I wanted to talk to you, but over and over you ingnored it so things just kept getting worse and worse and worse. You knew that pushing me made me angry and react badly, but you kept doing it anyway. We could never manage to keep up with working on any issues, because they just kept compounding by your refusal to give me time to collect my feelings and thoughts. You wanted instant gratification, instant consolation, but I couldn’t work that way, and you wouldn’t let me work that way, either.
In September, all I had wanted was some show of emotion from you, and an apology for the silliness. I got neither. I got all this crazy drama instead. As our conversations progressed, I would have expected some sort of connection from you, and got nothing. The days before I left, you were so cold. You never cared to see if I was genuinely okay. That HURT.
I WANTED to know how we could fix things, but you held back. I felt like you never really did want this then; that you were happy I was away. Telling me to come home was a false promise; a pipe dream that we could work on things. As this progressed (the emotional distance, while you knew, you knew how much I needed you), I became progressively more and more angry and slighted-feeling. It felt like you just didn't care. It felt like last November all over again. All I had wanted was an apology, a connection so that I could feel like you were still with me. I needed a shred of human respect. I needed you to acknowledge my pain, and my FEAR. I wanted to feel like we were a team. I felt like you felt sorry for me at the time, and nothing more. I also felt like you wanted me to dump you so I could be the bad guy. You need to believe this.
Since the day I arrived here, I’ve felt abandoned, uncared for. I was back to suffering alone when I just needed your support to get me through it all. I was hurt, hurt, hurt by that and lashed back in anger. I wanted to hurt you the way you had hurt me over the last year. And it didn't help that the first thing you said to me when you did, was "I have a right to feel hurt and angry" . Instead of opening up to me, you closed yourself off. We closed off from each other. I pulled back from unresolved feelings surrounding November that persisted, and you pushed me away because we didn’t resolve it, either. But it wasn’t from lack of trying, Dory. I BEGGED you for counseling with me. You appeared so indifferent and uninterested. And while you now say that you were never against it, you need to understand that I was not a mind-reader, that of course I would read your nonchalant attitude as disinterest in working things out. And you have to admit that if it were the other way around, you would have read it that way, too.
Re: A (1st draft) letter to my ex-wife... grendalkhan: I was scared for MONTHS since I got home, but I felt like you were nothing more than a zombie. It felt like you were being selfish, refusing to come to me yet again in my time of need. I needed to know I was still good enough for you. I felt so discounted, not important. I was so frustrated and hurt that you couldn’t/wouldn’t acknowledge my hurt that I exploded. I tried to hug you and just be close to you and you were cold to me. I held your hand on the couch, watching movies like we used to enjoy, and it felt like I was holding a lifeless hand with no love left in it. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. I was always getting these mixed messages from you. You would say you were proud of me, and were supportive of my accomplishments, but weren’t there for the bad times. You perpetually closed off when things were bad. And what I find most sad and pathetic is how easily avoidable the bad times were. The bad times could have been positive, relationship-affirming experiences if only you would have allowed them to be.
It doesn’t matter whether or not we were in a marriage, this stuff needed to be dealt with. Yes, I needed to see Dr. Faux further and maybe that would have helped. Things wouldn’t have magically worked themselves out. I wanted to marry you, and not just because of the pregnancy. I wanted to do all the things we dreamed about, but I also knew that from my experience in November, when times were rough, you would shut down. I was so hurt by the past year that everything just came to a head, the finale. I freaked out, and I am not proud of myself for the way I reacted. I felt I had no choice but to either explode, or kill myself. While I never, ever wanted to hurt you in my heart, I felt such a desire to hurt you to avenge my own pain that I had been carrying for so, so long. You need to believe that, Dory. Never in my wildest dreams did I want that to happen.
So then I foolishly reach out to you yet again to meet the same fate. You have refused to forgive me for my frustration and anger, and refuse to understand where it all came from. You’re blindsided by particular events, yet it seems you can’t comprehend WHY they happened. I admit to pushing you away. And I’m also willing to admit that I was so damn scared of being hurt even more. I needed a team effort. I needed to know you were there to deal with the rough stuff, too, not just the happy times. I know, realistically, that life is not a fantasy. We don’t live in a fantasy world. It’s real, it’s difficult, and it will always throw shit at you no matter how hard you try to hide your head in the sand and pretend it doesn’t exist.
I tried to work things out with you and ask for a second chance. I know all of this would have been averted if not for the events of last February and the way everything was dealt with. Things were great before then – we laughed – we held each other – I know it was real, Dorothy – photographic evidence is hard to discount. I thought I knew you. I thought we were friends before November happened. I know this wouldn’t have happened if we both could only have been realistic about the amount of continuous emotional work that a relationship entails – I even recall you saying so. I know this wouldn’t have happened if only you let me cry on your shoulder, and share my pain with you, instead of bottling it all up only to come out as painful comments and anger. I never asked for a partner who wanted a fantasy, and expected that our relationship would always be one. I asked for a partner that I could turn to, who would always be there, that I could always count on, and who would be available to deal with the trials and tribulations of a serious, long-term relationship. You told me last that you couldn’t do that. Instead, you want to keep me as a friend, at a distance where you can have “Jessie’s father” close the part without having to deal with the very real consequences of what really occurred and why. As long as you continue to look for the perfect fantasy relationship, you will continue to be hurt and disappointed. I’m not saying that to hurt you, Dory, I want you to know the reality of how unfair you’re being to yourself in believing that the fantasy is actually attainable. I would have liked to think that part of the “fantasy” would be a person who is willing to work things out with you, who is willing to share your good and bad times, but apparently I was wrong. And transgression from the fantasy has resulted in feelings of betrayal instead of being that proverbial wake-up call telling you that sometimes you needed to snap into reality and meet me there for a while.
Click More for the next page.
