A few years back, an email appeared in my in-box. I wearily looked at the sender and knew, “well, this won’t be good.” But I could not have imagined what was inside.
To say it was the most hurtful thing I’d ever read: well… that would have been true at the time. Since then, I’ve read worse — directed at me. But at that moment, it was devastating.
Reading it, my whole body shook: as if I was holding a real letter. No paper, just words on a screen and a violent physical reaction from me.
Never let anyone tell you words can’t hurt you. I’ll take sticks and stones.
And here’s the thing: I’ve written difficult letters. But never when I was angry: always trying to state the hard facts as FACTS. Not, “You’re a miserable person” — but “I can’t continue to be in this relationship.”
The end result is the same, I suppose. But I want to believe, actually I do believe that we all must speak our own truth: in love. Even if that love means letting go because it makes you safe and sane and human again.
But what arrived in my in-box that day wasn’t love. It wasn’t truth. It wasn’t even human. What it was? I’m not sure. I’ve sat with it for ages and I still can’t begin to tell you where to begin.
And it was eventually followed up (a year later) by an “apology”… that was really just more of the same. Only this time, it got worse. Somehow, all the bile that was sent my direction was now my fault, too. That and so much more.
And this is why you never say, “It can’t get any worse.” *smile*
Today was an amazing day. Day two of 60 degree weather so of course IZ and I found time to walk along the river and at some point on our walk this letter came up in conversation. IZ asked, “Are you going to publish it?”
I’ve been sorely tempted. At first to rebut it point by point. Then, because it would be therapeutic to put it to bed. Blogging has always been my way of working it out. Now, because some things should see the light of day: if only as a cautionary tale.
However, the timing has never seemed right. I’m not sure when that will be. But I have a hunch it will have something to do with finally letting go of figuring it out and letting the letter speak for itself.