Dear You,
I don’t really have much of anything to say to you other than I hope you realize that my lowest vibrational frequency is your baseline. I kept a lot of things—thoughts like that—to myself to spare your feelings despite you having no concern whatsoever about mine. You see…my kind and compassionate nature…my willingness to let things go that are unacceptable (which is consequently why we broke up) are optional. I choose to be sunshine and rainbows and love and kindness and all of those things…and in choosing to do so, there were several things I never told you about how I really felt.
Like…at the beginning…when we first reconnected…I wasn’t attracted to you. In fact, that was part of why I dated you—bad on me, I know, but I was newly widowed. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I was looking for a distraction. I was looking for a way to stop going out of my mind, and you just happened to be there. Now, I do believe the universe is always acting in our best interests, and I did need that experience to mature and wake up to the conditioning and the trauma that I’d been carrying around with me…I did need to take the toxic, covertly narcissistic, avoidant, and emotionally abusive behavior of yours that is so incredibly common among byproducts of systemic patriarchy (that’s you and people like you) and alchemize it into growth, into healing, into maturity, and even though you had the same opportunity, you jettisoned it, which is what I did with you once I knew the relationship had no future.
I’ll own to the reality that it was a mistake to even entertain anything involving romance while I was trying to heal, but again…I had to learn. I was codependent and anxious. My insecurity, eating disorder, and low-self worth all came crashing down around me—and I was already laying in the detritus of an otherwise wonderful life. So…what started as a distraction ended up being trauma bond. I’d just been sure that I wasn’t going to actually get really interested in you. I just needed something to take the edge off of going out of my mind with grief and trauma.
If you’d had a modicum of esteem yourself, you’d have realized that, and you’d also have had the sense to realize that nobody following a recent breakup or divorce needs to be in a relationship. It’s predatory to go after people when they’re in a situation like that. It’s just low-vibe. It’s never worked out for you…I know I’m not the first. But the thing is…you don’t care about other people…just how you feel. That’s why the hellscape that was the first few months of our relationship were some of your happiest memories in our relationship…because all you cared about was you and how my attention made you feel.
But you wanted to fulfill your grandiose delusions of heroism…oh and don’t pretend that you don’t have them. I just read something about Peter Theil, and it said he’s an addict. The side-by-side of him from a few years ago and now definitely supports that assessment. But it was interesting because it said all addicts have God-complexes and delusions of grandeur. And as I sit and think about it it makes sense.
You see, low self-esteem is actually characterized by two contradictory states of being—an overinflated sense of self and an inability to take action. It reminds me of that guy Rob who died in 2019—the once I used to work with in my early-20s back when I met you. He was a drug addict and dealer just like you were back then, and he had all kinds of delusions of grandiosity. He thought he was some big-wig because in his mind, he was, but what was he really? He was just a man. He was just a man who cheated on his wife, dealt in illicit substances, and used and took and lied and cheated his way through life until it caught up with him. Sounds familiar.
I do find it interesting that I was 22 when I met you and that was the same time—same place, where Rob was a feature in my life. You guys are all the same. You see something you like and you take it, use it to the best of your ability until it stops being easy or makes you feel good, and then you discard it. You can deal it, but you can’t take it, can you?
Because you lost your shit when you lost the ability to control me, and unlike the others in the little plotless narrative we’ll call your life, I had the courage to tell the truth, and unlike others—you could never control me. I was a thorn in your side from the beginning, but since you’re a proven predator (you didn’t remember me from when I was 22 because I am heart-stoppingly beautiful—you did it because you saw a potential target…you saw my lack of esteem and boundaries and clocked it), you really couldn’t stand to lose control of me.
I mean, look at how much narrative control you tried to have. You used to let people think we were married—and then you lied about buying a ring for me not because you wanted to lose me but because you wanted to hurt me. I know that was intentional. You started running your pathetic smear campaign after Topanga. God, I’m so glad I took that trip. I’m so glad you couldn’t really control yourself. I’m so glad you left a trail of evidence for me to follow once I caught wise to what you’d done. I’d say thank you, but I don’t give credit where it’s not due, so thank me.
I’d love it say I regret you, and while I will never look at you, think fondly of you, or bat an eyelash over anything that ever happens to you, I am grateful. I am thankful to myself for taking an incredibly abusive relationship and a harrowing half-decade and alchemized it into maturation, healing, growth, and unconditional love. I am thankful to myself for not letting you ruin men and relationships for me. I am thankful to myself for having the courage to seek justice for the assault (stay tuned!). I am thankful to myself for finally learning to give myself the love I deserve—all of that love that I poured into you, all of the projections of what a good person I thought you were—I realize now that was just ME trying to see parts of me in you, which was my only real mistake. That was a sign of my lack of growth and maturation—I was seeking what I could only provide internally externally. Man, that was a long ass time to go without real love.
I have been so much happier since you’ve been gone. Even with three children, every day life is so much easier now that I’m not also parenting and micromanaging another woman’s mistake. Because that’s all I did—I walked on eggshells and catered to your feelings and demands while you came home and sat around pissed away your empty existence on Facebook.
As I reflect on it, I don’t think I ever respected you at all. How could I? I was doing all of the work. You would just expound on things, and you sounded like such a broken record. I really cannot believe you think that the way you were raised was good parenting. Bro…dude…I will happily say this with my whole chest, but thank god for the sake of your daughter that you were too self-absorbed to be a present parent for her. Kids don’t need a dad—or a mom—like that. They need a connected, grounded parent.
Oh, and speaking of parenting—a topic you’ve proven repeatedly you know nothing about (try reading a book—all of the beautiful people are doing it), I also read through your post-breakup texts where you were projecting your own abandonment onto your daughter onto me. You kept saying I was leaving my kids to go party. The fuck I was you lying asshat. That was you projecting your 30-year-old cocaine dealing bartending selfish ass onto me. You abandoned your child. I had to let my parents watch my kids while I was being stalked because we live in a world of predators—a world where men who don’t give a fuck about women or children or their safety will violate that because their egos are bruised or worse—because they want them for their own narcissistic consumption. So, let’s get things straight.
Everything you said to me that was allegedly “about me” was about you. So, you telling me that I was crazy and dangerous really speaks to the world about you. Because we are all connected in this fever dream we call life, I hope for your sake that you grow up. I hope for your sake you heal. The thing that pisses me off the most about you is that you’re not all bad—nobody is. You’re just someone who felt entitled to things they never showed up to earn. You were butt-hurt (one of your favorite expressions #dldudesloveit) that you weren’t chosen when you were younger and your rejection sensitivity turned you into a shell.
You used to want me to write and be successful so you could—to quote Rob “ride my coattails” but you also were so insecure you couldn’t stand it if I was successful, so you told me that I read too much. You told me that nobody cared about what I wrote. Well, as it turns out, just as you were when you wanted to blame every conflict on me and make me take it while all you offered up was a flaccid “sorry” (you are sorry), you were wrong. People care. And what’s more I care. You just never wanted the truth to see the light of day, and in projecting that fear onto me, you have ensured that the truth will bask in the light of day until you take your last breath.
It might be in fiction. It might be in nonfiction. Actually, it will be both. If you read my writing, you will discover yourself repeatedly, and the only way for you to prove that it’s your likeness on my pages is for you to tell the entire truth of your behavior. And just like that…you finally found a way to satisfy me.
As your best friend’s wife says—have the life you deserve. Everything that comes to you just know…you earned it. Bet you wish you’d have let go of my coattails sooner or maybe just walked away. I was ready for you to be a footnote in my story, but you decided you’d rather be the villain. I guess anything to be remembered, right? Weird flex. I’d rather be remembered as a decent and virtuous person who loved unconditionally and did her very best or not at all. Boy, the things people like you will do for even a brush with greatness. (And yes, I do know that I am capable of greatness and bet that I intend to work my ass off to prove it.) Bye. You’re dismissed.
Thoughts and prayers & never ever yours,
—A