8:10 p.m. - 2013-02-15
A valentine to my husband
If I could say one thing to my husband on Valentine's Day, it would be this:
You lying, cheating, narcissistic, conscienceless, sadistic little piece of shit,
Did you pick me because you knew I was fragile? Did you tell me that I could trust you with my fears and pain because you knew I'd trusted people and gotten my heart broken and my soul stomped on so many times before? Did you softly and sweetly and gently teach me to think of you as my home and my anchor because it would be so much more beautiful and glorious to you to destroy someone who loved you completely? Who trusted only you? Who made you her one good thing, the only thing she could count on, the one thing sometimes that kept her hanging on?
In the beginning, Matt, I didn't need you at all. I didn't need you because I didn't care about love and no one could touch me. You got me -- you sucked me in -- because YOU needed me. I let you in because you needed me to be your partner, and I couldn't be your partner and your lover if I left my heart in the deep freeze. I thawed it out for you and it hurt like hell. It hurt like hell the whole time I loved you, just to be alive.
When you threw me away -- because I was all the things you'd made me reveal to you, all the things I hated about myself and all the things you said you'd love forever -- because I was worthless, you said, not only to you but to anyone -- I would have preferred to have just died. I could have died in my mind, or physically, or both, and at least I would have gotten peace from the torture of being me, and of watching you treat the whole world kindly but me, and smile and laugh with another woman in my place, and post pictures on Facebook while YOUR child was still kicking in my stomach and you were still sleeping in my bed most, though not every, night.
It would have been nice if you left me with some way out of my misery but you left me instead with two children who never deserved to have a dead/absent mother and YOU for an excuse for a father.
You were once the best thing that had ever happened to me and you became the worst. You still are. I hate to admit that but even though I have started doing things with my life that I always dreamed of and never could when you loved me, and I am in love with someone else, and I got two beautiful kids out of this rotten deal, I still think you are the worst thing that ever happened to me. And there have been a lot of really shitty things that have happened to me.
I don't understand you and I never will. I don't know how you stand yourself or sleep at night. You shouldn't. I didn't deserve how you treated me. I know you would laugh and say I did -- because you know me well enough to know that I never really, really believe I deserve anything good -- but YOU are one thing even I didn't deserve. You are the one bad thing I 100 percent did not deserve.
I don't know who you are or who you were. I often feel like the person I loved was a figament of my imagination. You're just trash. You are worthless, pollute-the-world trash.
Happy Valentine's Day! And ps, Rot In Hell.
- your wife
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