A letter to the perpetrator

From a piece I wrote on Apr. 13, 2011

A letter to the perpetrator

I can’t get the images out of my head. You. Her. Cartagena. The jungle.

What you have done to me, how you’ve hurt me, is beyond your comprehension. You will never understand how I feel. You will never be able to empathize with me or feel compassion for me.

The lies. The deceit. The disrespect.

You made me feel like it was all in my head. Like I was a depressed and crazy person.
I felt as if something was wrong with me and that I really had drug our marriage down because of my problems.
You made me feel like it was all my fault.

You made me feel unworthy. You made me feel old. You made me feel ugly.
You made me hate myself. Hate my life.
You picked at my worst characteristics and threw them in my face to make me feel like this whole situation was because I wasn’t ______ enough (insert whatever word you’d like on that line).
You took my attention away from my daughter, the person who needed it the most.
You distracted me from my work.
You ripped my heart out of my chest.
You stabbed me in the back.

I know there is someone out there who can love me.
No, not just love me. Treasure me.
Treat me life the queen that I am.
Value my assets and strengths.
Be okay with my faults and weaknesses.
Love me, respect me, and be honest and open with me.

I do not know if I can forgive you for what you did to me.
But that is a personal problem.
My life will be worse for me if I cannot.
So my job is to work to forgive you.
Again, not for you, for me.
Erase those horrible visions from my mind.
Forget that I hate Ecuador because it reminds me of what you did.
Forget that I hate Colombia (mostly Cartagena, one of the most romantic cities in the world), because it reminds me of what you did.
And that I hate you for what you’ve done to me.
I need to change that hate and hurt, to acceptance and friendship so I can move on with my life and live it in peace and happiness.

Our relationship will never be the same again.
You wanted something different.
You missed your life as it was in your “good times”.
You wanted to be young and free again, doing whatever the fuck you wanted.
You got what you wanted.
Sometimes we have to be careful of what we wish for.

This is real life.
This is not a game.
This is MY life.
Not something to play with.
I will no longer let you play with my life the way you have done in the past.
I am in charge now.
ME.
Not my family.
Not my daughter.
And certainly not you.
I AM IN CHARGE.
And as the person in charge, I decide what comes next.
I determine my own future.
I determine my fate.