New Series: 'The Letters I've Never Sent.'

I know, I'm the worst when i get caught up in my life but not to worry some tragedy always brings me back to my words. Seeing as the most recent tragedies (a bit dramatic, sue me) seem like reoccurring ones, and in a random twist of fate I've written several unaddressed letters, to the same person, I'm turning them into my next book project. If you can't fix it, write it. Right?

Enjoy Letter #1

9.5.2011

To The One That Walked Away,

I haven't realized before now how much power you have over me. Excuse me, had over me. Maybe it's an insecurity thing, or some backwards appreciation thing, or maybe it's just a disrespectful thing. Endless opportunities to right your many wrongs, but instead I right wrongs for you, that I haven't even committed, but manifested to simply fix it.

Foolish as it may be, that worked for me, for a while. As long as I didn't have to face it up front, I could bury it, my weakness, my powerless-against-you epiphany, my fear. I've felt this way for a few years now, but never knew just quite what it was. But it's clear now, it's always been fear. Or disappointment. Maybe both.

Regardless, you've betrayed me, and I've betrayed me. Because I keep letting you control me. I keep assuming that you need me, the way that I need you, but I'm wrong. You don't know what you need, and I only want to need you. It's a powerful thing--necessity. It drives you to places you'd never admit you frequent, but denial is the first sign you have a problem; admitting it is the first step to recovery.

I can't forgive you for the hurt you constantly cause me. I can't forgive you for your arrogance, your stubborn nature that makes you cruel and uneasy to talk to. I can't forgive you for treating me like nothing, because I'm not nothing. I can't forgive you.

But I want to.

There in lies the powerless state I fear. I want to forgive you for years of betrayal, of my trust, and of us. We were never lovers, but I loved you, and I still do, even though you betrayed me. I am the ultimate hypocrite, because what they say is true. There's no room for logic in matters of the heart. And I'll say it again--we were not lovers, but I loved you. I loved what we were, unshakeable friends who would do anything for each other. Friends that never had to hide our most vulnerable selves, and never doubted the others judgment, even if we disagreed.

I can't forgive you. Not for the agony that you've brought me. Not for the uncertainty that you've caused me, about us and anyone else in my life that tries to get that close. Not for the hatred you spewed in your rage. Not for the apparent disregard for my fragility. Not for the opened wounds that you dig deeper and deeper into when the timing's completely wrong.

I can't forgive you. But I want to.

Detrimentally yours,
Me.