Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Dear ______, Give Me Freedom.

I wrote this letter last night. I was hoping it would help. I was told it would be therapeutic. I can tell you I don’t really feel much from it. I could not picture him as I wrote this, I do not know why because I tried. It did not make me raw, or break down. I wanted that so bad. I wanted it out.

Maybe I’ll try again. This is the beginning of my letter to him. What am I missing? What is the key?


Dear FG,

I’m sitting here on my red couch, three days after Christmas, listening to Boys 2 Men and drinking wine. I currently own my own house and have taken many steps to grow up and be a different girl than I was with you. I have worked on developing my inner strength, my worth and my confidence.

The other day I saw you in the parking lot by Starbucks in Inglewood. Never has one moment been so devastating to me. In that split second of meeting your eyes, I lost everything I have worked so hard to build. A glimpse into your soulless eyes threw me back five to seven years ago. Now I find myself in an endless downward spiral with little to keep me in the moment.

I have once again let you control me, and you didn’t even have to say a word. I lost myself again. I am alienating my friends. I am staying holed up in my house. I am keeping silent on my pain, my past. I thought I was over you. Done with you.

But your damn eyes took me back. I now have to reclaim myself,. Over the years you have cost me an untold amount of friends and relationships for fear of those who got too close. I need that to stop. I have to move on.

Everything I see now, and feel or smell, reminds me of you and the hurt, pain, shame. A glint of light off a knife that another’s holding, my head on a pillow, a touch of the leg, a word, a parking lot, someone with your height, hair, nose or eyes. A place, a street, a song, a bottle, an unexpected picture, moment, person. Anything. A movie. A feeling. An erratic heartbeat. A voice.

I don’t want you to ever forget that I HATE YOU. I wish you pain with every moment the rest of your miserable life continues on for. I wish you loneliness. I wish you hatred. Fear. Everything I’ve gone through but for the rest of your life. I wish another woman never ends up with you. No one deserves it.

I hate you with every fiber of my being. Every breath I take. Every blink. Every drop of water on my skin. Every snowflake. Every waking moment. Every dream. Every restless night. I hate you.

I hate you for what you have cost me. For the secrets I have to keep. I hate you for making me afraid, for teaching me fear. I hate you for every minute we were together. For the innocence you stole from me. For taking my love of life. My trust in others. My pride. My sense of self worth. I hate you for leaving me broken. I hate you for everything I’m unable to think of or list at this exact moment.

I hate you for taking my sense of safety. I hate you for all the years I was unaware of this. I hate you for making me question my drinking. I hate you for causing me to consider if I am who I am because of you. I hate you for stealing me from myself.

I don’t want to be a PinkFawn created by FG. I want to be a PinkFawn who comes from a wonderfully loving family. Incredible friends, and self-realization that comes from an abuse-free past.

But the girl I am since I have seen you is not. Was I ever in these past five years?! I hate you. I wish I could look into your eyes and make you understand how deeply rooted my hate is for you. You blinded me with fake love. I don’t ever want you to do that to someone again.

Do you remember holding the knife against my throat and asking me if I was scared for my life? Can you recall throwing me naked against the wall again and again, when I was only saved from your abuse when your friend came home and found me naked, curled up in a ball and crying? What about the bruises? The hateful word and phrases; you’re an idiot, no one will ever love you again, you are lucky you have me, bitch, dumbass, stupid, immature, worthless, whore? How about the two broken doors? The slap?

Well, I cannot forget it. No matter how hard I try I can’t. I hate you for those memories and for making me feel empty and worthless again.

I walk around day in and day out, protecting who I am, putting on a front. When in reality I am an empty shell. One who feels dizzy and physically sick with the effort of this front. Exhausted, used, abused, broken. Always on the brink of giving up but assuring other and myself that I WILL get through this. I will overcome the terribly spiteful things you did to me. You, FG, are a worthless loser. Not me.

All those things I have done to you over the past five years, the email reminders, the Facebook altering, was to try to cause you some of the pain you inflicted on me.

Why did you choose me to abuse, say hateful things to and throw around? What was it about me you thought deserved it?

Why did I let you, and why does my heart stop when I think about our past?

Why can I now not get over you? Why did I let you cause me to have PTSD? Why can I not forgive you, even if the forgiveness if for myself? I hate you, in case you forget since the last time I wrote it.

I need to let you go, but these memories are alive within me. This hate has been ignited. It is like a glorious and devastating fire. I want my life back.

I let you cause me to fear men and the terrible, unconscionable things they are capable of. I want a successful relationship, one which lasts past six months because that is when you turned on me. I want a healthy life, with very minimal self doubt and loads of confidence and strength.

But I am scared, full of fear. I hate you.

There is so much more I should tell you about but I do not know where to end this tonight.

I hate you. I loathe you. I wish you pain. Your memories still scare me.


Dear God,

It’s me again. I am so far from where I could have been.

If you are real, out there and listening:
Please give me strength, forgiveness and freedom. Let me love freely. Love myself, love others.

God, don’t forget about me.

PinkFawn

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