Attempt #9

Dear you,

I’ve been attempting. A few things:

  • to wrap my head around all of this
  • to adequately say what I never got to say
  • to kill myself (yes, I know. It is what it is.)

In an effort to do the first one I’m going to do the second one. I apologize that I will have to use some assumptions here about what we went through. I know how much you hated that.

In an effort to never do the third one again, I hope this helps me somehow.

First, you were right. It had to end. Neither of us was getting what we needed or what we wanted out of our marriage. I know you believe you tried to communicate. I know I tried to get us to consider any and all options, including a break, before where we are now. One thing I realize, upon reflection, is that you tried to assert boundaries and I tried to comply. I tried to stop behaviors you described to me to be smothering but the damage was done.

Others who observed us have pointed out that it seemed like you didn’t want me around pretty much from the moment after we got engaged. Perhaps you had second thoughts even then. I know I asked you if we should consider moving the wedding back and you emphatically said no. Then, as this all unfolded and I finally asked you why we even got married in the first place, you told me that you thought that “maybe it would make you feel better.” Not that you loved and cared for me and wanted me as your partner. You’ve also said that you weren’t “you” when we wed.

I also know that as soon as we had our first minor disagreement I reverted to my old codependent ways that have self-sabotaged so many of my prior romantic pursuits. I tried to explain this to you but my words and actions failed me, us. Occasionally, I tried to claw myself back from those and use methods I had learned from previous situations. And yet, somehow, I continued to find myself feeling knocked back to insecurity about our stability. I’m learning to accept those pieces and my part in diminishing our relationship. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I didn’t respect your attempts to set some simple household boundaries and, overall, your autonomy. That was one of the major things I was planning to bring back to Istanbul with me but I never got the chance. I saw months ago, and even more clearly now, that this had happened.

I continue to work on those things. Some days I am better at it than others. I took for granted the notion that our friendship would see us through without adequately seeking out your perspective on that or what you were feeling. I feel like my “check-ins” weren’t what they should have been. I know you so well and yet I did so many things that I knew, before we got together, would never fly with you. This led me to constantly doubting myself and continued to lower my self-esteem until I was reduced to a shell of what I was when we took the initial plunge. In essence, I thought it would be easier than it turned out to be.

The fact of the matter is, though, that I’m working on these things now on parallel tracks with trying to move on with my life without a partner. You or anyone else. Ever. I am done with it. This isn’t some pedantic tantrum “I’m done”. It’s an “I can never find myself in this place again.” So I won’t do it. I just won’t. It will be the end of me. This may still yet be the end of me. Only time will tell there but I can’t go through this again. Repeating this pattern for 25 years is too much.

There are dates now that will forever be etched into my memory. January 14, March 12, May 25, and especially February 18. It joins a list of other dates that are lodged in my brain for other, yet equally potent, reasons like February 17, August 5, August 19, and October 17. October 20 and September 29 are ones I wish I could forget, just like September 17, but they are also there and I imagine there will be a day in June soon to add to that particular list. So it goes. After all, “an elephant never forgets”.

I need to try to live, though, and I presume at some point or other you will hear things. As I’ve already found, our worlds rub too closely together for things not to trickle through even when we tell people “no, just don’t”. So, as much as my heart wants to hear from you, even to encourage me to move on and stay alive, I can’t hear those words from you. If you think those thoughts then I thank you in advance. However, if you ever want to discuss healing and reconciliation; if you ever truly want me back in your life; all you have to do is knock.

You know all too well that people I’ve loved in this way always stay in my heart so I’m sure I don’t need to say it for the 10th or 10-hundredth time but I will: I love you. Always.

Godspeed, dear.

Yours always (and forever to my last breath),
B.

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