sendme Posted October 12, 2012 Posted October 12, 2012 Wrote this today as an exercise in healing... And an exercise in what I wish he could know about how I feel... Have you written? Do you want to share? I am fatigued broken exhausted my self esteem is nil, my happiness fleeting, my anxiety through the roof, my depression debilitating... I understand your fears and worries, but I cannot bear under the weight of your constant anger, disappointment, and accusations... I am crushed under the density and volume of the tidal waves you perpetually bowl me over with... I understand you're afraid of being hurt again.... But I am barely reconstructed and you are perpetually shaking my core... I cannot continue like this and neither can you.... Either it's worth the risk or it's not... But you can't control, demean, bend or break my spirit any further out of your own fear... I am being truthful... If you can't believe me then move on... *But I will never be able to stand, fight and win this perpetual Battle against your internal demons
Simon Phoenix Posted October 13, 2012 Posted October 13, 2012 I wrote a letter to my ex that I've never sent, was actually very therapeutic to get thoughts out in written form. Never going to send it, but yeah, it helped to get it out in the open, even if it wasn't specifically to her.
Simon Phoenix Posted October 13, 2012 Posted October 13, 2012 And since you asked to share, here it is. Never sending this, but it's not as pathetic as it could have been. Dear Ex, I’m sure you can probably figure out why I’m taking the time to write this, so I’ll just get right to the point. It’s obvious that there has been a pretty big divide in our friendship, and I regret being the cause of it. We don’t have to rehash the night in question detail by detail that caused our awesome, budding bond to be put on life support, but I feel it’s important to explain why I acted the way I did. I’ve wanted to since it happened, but there just hasn’t been an appropriate opportunity. I really didn’t want to deliver this message in this way, but it seems like this is the way it has to be. First of all, my episode, or whatever you choose to call it, was not caused by anything you did or said that night. You didn’t trigger me at all. So if you had any thoughts of that nature, flush them. You were just fine. I, however, was not. Obviously alcohol played a big factor in my outburst – there’s no way I would have ranted and raved like a lunatic at your place had I not been completely drunk – but the wine we drank had nothing to do with the true reason why I flipped out. I flipped out because I was scared, plain and simple. I was scared because I was developing a strong attachment to you. I’m not one that falls for people, so when I realized that I had feelings for you, it freaked me out. Not necessarily because I was afraid you were going to reject those feelings; I was afraid that you would accept and embrace them. While I really wanted to take our relationship to the next level, in my mind I was looking for any excuse to pull the eject lever out of fear and insecurity. It sounds moronic and it is, but it’s the truth. I felt that perhaps I wouldn’t a good boyfriend (as you once asked whether I was or not) and didn’t even consider that you might have just liked me for me. It sucks, because I think I would be awesome in that role, but those dishes seem to be done. Alcohol and frustration toward certain things that happened that evening provided the spark for me to act on these self-destructive impulses. That’s why I decided that “I am a bad person” and wanted to leave your apartment immediately, even if it meant driving home wasted (thank you for talking me out of that by the way). I actually walked to the place near where she lives that night after you went to bed to descramble my head and I knew right away that I f--ked up and I completely regretted it. Still do, but I don’t have a time machine, so what’s done is done. I can’t take it back now, no matter how much I want to. Anyway, I do not blame you for how you have reacted in the aftermath. To be honest, if the roles were reversed, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have acted similarly. If someone I liked had flipped out like that, I probably would have thought that they were rejecting me (for the record, I was not rejecting you at all). I would be frustrated/angry/confused/unsettled, etc. I’m not sure which of those emotions best described you, but in the limited time I’ve interacted with you since that’s the vibe that I have gotten, especially the first of the two random baseball games we went to. And I can’t fault you one damn bit. Now do I wish that you would have talked to me those times I tried to get ahold of you after this all went down? Of course. But I can’t blame you for not doing that. Dealing with the complex feelings that this situation brought to the surface isn’t fun – in fact it sucks. Just like writing this letter sucks. But it’s necessary. I’m not writing this as a last-ditch effort to bring you back. I will not try to sell you because only you can decide what feels best for you. I just figured that you should know why I did what I did, to have all the information so there is no gray area. Perhaps you already guessed correctly and this whole letter is basically 900 words of “No s--t, Sherlock!”, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I realize this letter might have been uncomfortable to read. It might come off as melodramatic and schmaltzy and make you even less likely to want to see me. You might think I’m an a-hole for writing it. Think what you want, but you need to know why things went down the way they did that night. I don’t know what the future holds – if we just hang out when my best friend and your sister are around, if we don’t even do that, if we do more – but I did enjoy spending time with you and I know you enjoyed spending time with me at one point. My stupidity, insecurity and fear that I had won’t change that, even if it did change everything else. Sincerely, Simon
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