What is wrong in your head that you would send me a letter like the one you just did? On what planet are you actually living.
I think it's a measure of just how low and ridiculous our relationship has gotten that I'm writing this here instead of responding to you. I know that won't do any good, I know that won't change anything and rather than beat my head against the same wall that has been smashing me bloody for years, I'm writing it here. Because I have to say it. How dare you.
You're giving me back? You think you of all people are in a position to do that? I have not lived with you in 30 years. You have not known me in about 20 and yet somehow you presume to imply that what you do has an impact on who I am and how I'm taken care of. You have no idea who I am. Your lofty words and silly smile don't touch me because I know that's all they are, that's all they ever have been. Silly reflections of a silly person that for whatever reason purposefully let go of reality long before I was done growing up.
I am truly sorry for you. I had hoped, and maybe still do hope in some small malnourished corner of myself, that there was something for us to build on. Some indication that for once I could be the child and you could be the adult and I could talk to you like I see so many others do with their parents. This is obviously not that time.
The door is closing on us, I know that. I did that math last night, I know how much longer we have to both be residents on this planet. I'm not the mean bastard you seem to think because I don't want it to end like it is. But I am also no longer a masochist that feels the need to let your crazy into my life solely because of what you were 38 years ago. I have a family to take care of, I have my sanity to preserve and frankly dealing with you jeopardizes both. I truly wish it wasn't so but if wishes were dollars and all that jazz.
How dare you presume to be a mom only to make your peace with me. You don't get that privilege, you don't have that right. You're not even worth the response.
I think it's a measure of just how low and ridiculous our relationship has gotten that I'm writing this here instead of responding to you. I know that won't do any good, I know that won't change anything and rather than beat my head against the same wall that has been smashing me bloody for years, I'm writing it here. Because I have to say it. How dare you.
You're giving me back? You think you of all people are in a position to do that? I have not lived with you in 30 years. You have not known me in about 20 and yet somehow you presume to imply that what you do has an impact on who I am and how I'm taken care of. You have no idea who I am. Your lofty words and silly smile don't touch me because I know that's all they are, that's all they ever have been. Silly reflections of a silly person that for whatever reason purposefully let go of reality long before I was done growing up.
I am truly sorry for you. I had hoped, and maybe still do hope in some small malnourished corner of myself, that there was something for us to build on. Some indication that for once I could be the child and you could be the adult and I could talk to you like I see so many others do with their parents. This is obviously not that time.
The door is closing on us, I know that. I did that math last night, I know how much longer we have to both be residents on this planet. I'm not the mean bastard you seem to think because I don't want it to end like it is. But I am also no longer a masochist that feels the need to let your crazy into my life solely because of what you were 38 years ago. I have a family to take care of, I have my sanity to preserve and frankly dealing with you jeopardizes both. I truly wish it wasn't so but if wishes were dollars and all that jazz.
How dare you presume to be a mom only to make your peace with me. You don't get that privilege, you don't have that right. You're not even worth the response.
No comments:
Post a Comment