Letters Not Sent: The Long Goodbye

It's been a while since I have done one of these. I have come to understand that when someone is on my mind, it's probably because I am on theirs. It's never an accident.

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It's been months since our last contact and I gave you nothing. I saw you in public that day, fawning over all of these people from your past. It's nice to think about all of the forgiveness you were given. It's nice to think about all of the forgiveness you begged from these people who only have to see you for show, right?  I was different, though. Wasn't I? You begged for my good will. You begged for my forgiveness. Why didn't I joyfully give you what you so desperately desire? The short answer is because your whims and desires no longer affect me.

The long answer is that I don't owe you forgiveness despite your demand for it. I do not owe you forgiveness for acting in such a manner as I told you that you would act. I warned you that your actions have consequences and that once people you were mad at were out of the way, then you would find some inane reason to be mad at me. I warned you against the childish stomping of your feet and angry fists on hips demands that you made. I warned you that would keep being your response until you alienated everyone in your life. I warned you that pettiness would be your cloak for some time to come. I warned you that your lack of self-respect and addiction would ultimately be your undoing. I warned you that your need to control everything and everyone around you would come at a cost.

Well, that cost is a lack of respect and trust. You want so badly to be trusted, but you aren't trustworthy. You want so badly for people to see the person you wish you were instead of the person that you are. You can't seem to understand that when you open your mouth, your whims and desires spew forth veiled in frustration and vanity, trying to lead people to believe that you know more and are more than you actually are. Your words gush forth in a waterfall of victimhood. You don't understand how your words and actions affect other people and you don't want to know. You expect them to give you forgiveness because you do not believe that you have done anything wrong and that they are unreasonable. You expect others to simply allow you to create havoc wherever you go and to simply allow it to happen because you refuse to open your eyes to your own destructive behaviors. 

The truth is, though, I kind of miss you. Yes, you were an addict. Yes, you were demanding. Yes, you were blind to all of the people you hurt because of your selfishness. All that said, you lived pretty authentically, despite the fact that you thought you were a good person. You wanted to be a good person as long as that meant you could have what you wanted without acknowledging who you hurt in the process.

Even now, your apologies consist of 'I was addicted and out of control' and 'I was such a slave to my substance of choice that I didn't know what I was doing'. We both know that isn't true. Your substance of choice simply gave you an excuse to say and do whatever you wanted. Now, you do what you want without that excuse and people still dislike you. Just like when you were an addict, they tolerate you because you can be useful. You make them money. You take up space when they need quiet time. You are their place holder when they have better things to do.

Love, you are still the same person. You are simply more in control.  You still act within the very nature that made you an addict. It still makes you angry that I do not acknowledge your 'sorrow' and your 'regret'. Your program has done a great many wonders in your life. It has saved you from plenty of messy situations. What it hasn't done is saved you from yourself. Oh yes, I still hear from people about you. I hear that you haven't changed. These people don't know that I know you until after they tell me about the way you treat them. These people don't know that 'sober' you is just like 'addicted' you, but less fun and creative.

I want you to know that I never hated you. I still don't. I don't even dislike you, honestly. I'm not angry at what happened between us. I never have been. I was angry at your pettiness (and you know what I'm talking about. Twice!) but I never expected anything less, addicted or sober. You should also know that twice your pettiness didn't work and I suspect, even backfired on you, because we both know that I have a will of iron and you do not.

I want you to understand that, of all the people you know, I am the one who saw you clearly. I am the one who saw your you-ness and despite it wanted to be your friend. You need to understand that I did not accept your weird 12 step program bid for forgiveness because, despite what was between us, that forgiveness is not for me to grant. I have never held any ill will toward you for being who you are. Asking me to forgive you for who you are is not something I can do. You must find that place within yourself that acknowledges you aren't the person you want people to think you are and you must make peace with that. I always saw it and I was always okay with it. It was that person I warned you about knowing that you wouldn't listen.

One day, I hope to discover you have seen this and read it. I hope you understand it is not a judgment against your person. I have no doubt that you will one day do great things and get the recognition you deserve for being who you are. I hope life treats you more kindly than you treat most people. I hope that you find more people who see you clearly in times to come.

Blessings,
River

Letters Not Sent: Seeing and Hearing

My Dear,

It has been so very long since I have spoken to you.  It has been so very long since I have looked into your eyes and heard your words.  I can't say that it makes me sad, though.  I have grown in that time.  I realize now, that you are an expert at a great many things: telling people what they want to hear, being mysterious for no reason, taking advantage of folks, manipulation, but not being honest, unless it serves your purpose of manipulation.

You see the game coming to an end and it terrifies you. You look around at your crumbling little fiefdom and wonder what happened.  You wonder at all of the work you have done.  You gaze out, into the world, at what used to be and you want it back, but there is no going back.  Kali, The Great Destroyer, comes knocking.  She is no longer Mother Kali.  No, She comes forth in Her garland of skulls and skirt of human
 arms, dancing Her terrifying dance.  For some time now She has been working toward this.  You have ignored Her, even tried to work against Her.  Nothing can stop Her from destroying the illusions you have created, not even you.  Like all things in their due time, She will destroy everything without guilt and without prejudice.  You just see that your time has come due and you are scared.

Fear is a rational response, though.  We all want to believe that we have made a difference with our lives.  We all want to believe that we have done something everlasting.  Some people do, some don't, however, the brutal truth is, our own immortality depends solely upon how many lives we touch.  Whether we are the hero or villain in our immortality depends upon whether we helped or hurt those lives we touched.  We, as the liver of that life, don't get to decide our own hero or villain status after we are gone.  We are simply tasked with living and doing as our gods bid.

I learned a great many things from watching and actually hearing you.  You say all of the right words, but your actions speak a different story.  There was a time when that made me angry.  Now, though, it makes sense.  You say you choose some form of altruism.  Your actions speak the opposite.  Your entire life has been about Power.  It has been about Power over, now Power from within.  Now you are learning that you have no power.  Now you are learning that you never have had power and that's okay.

Mostly, I want to say this:  I have seen the road you are on.  I have watched it through to its culmination, which you will not get to see.  You will move on before it is done.  It will be what is best for you.  You do not want to see this.  It's kind of like the scene in Harry Potter where he meets Fawks for the first time just before he bursts into flames and Dumbledore remarks that he's sorry Harry met his phoenix on a burning day.

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, all will ultimately be well, but getting past that burning day and being reborn is going to hurt like hell and you don't want to see it.  I want you to know that we will all be alright and some of us will even flourish after you leave.  Some of us will embody your best and carry that with us.  Some will carry that shadow and work from it, too, but so it is with Humanity.

For now, go on doing what it is that you do.  I watch your manipulations and shake my head.  You surround yourself with those who would boost your ego and tell you what you want to hear.  If that gives you the peace you need, then may the rest of your life be full of peace.

Blessings,
Me

Letters Not Sent: A Thank You

This is a series I have been mulling over for some time.  The concept is that sometimes in relationships, there are things left unsaid before the person crosses over, you lose touch, or the relationship is shattered in an irreparable way.  Occasionally, the emotions attached to the words are so strong that they keep us from moving forward in that aspect of life, whether it is the sudden loss of a beloved grandparent, parent, or friend, the crumbling of a marriage, or even being picked up by that person who refused to leave your side and saved you from doing something stupid.  

All of these people have left an indelible mark on your soul and whether it is a 'thank you' or a 'fuck you' writing a letter with no intention of sending it is great catharsis.  It is just another way to get closure to a situation that there may never, actually, be a way to get closure.  

If anyone reading this is also a blogger and would like to do a blog ring type thing with this concept, please, feel free to contact me via the form to the right or at lightgoddess(at)gmail(dot)com and I will be happy to add a link to this and future blogs for my own readers.  I will also be happy to post links on my Facebook.

And so, on to the Letter...

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My Dear,

This is a letter more than half of a decade in the making.  I have spent this time learning and living.  I have spent this time yearning for you.  Part of me died with you.  That part of me walks with you in the Great Beyond, yes, but it has left an empty space.  I often hear you sardonic laughter.  I hear your bitchy retorts when I say something stupid.  I feel your hand in mine when I need a friend.  You taught me many, many things in our short time together, but mostly, you taught me how to live.

From you I learned the subtle Art of Bitchcraft.  If you have a smiling face and soft words, you can tell anyone to go to Hell in a way that they will look forward to the ride.  I learned that with the proper amounts of sarcasm and honey sweetness turning someone down romantically could be enjoyable for both parties.  In the same vein, I learned that some amount of vanity was always needed.  A Lady isn't a Lady without it.

From you I learned the Art of Loving.  I'm not talking sex and relationships.  I mean Love.  You sat in a place where you were accepting of your own brokenness and from that acceptance you gauged others and you loved them through their own brokenness.  You looked at my own brokenness and you loved me when I wasn't very lovable.

From you I learned the Art of Touch.  Something you said to me when we were in our early twenties, when I came to visit has stuck with me through the years.  You said, "Don't think I'm weird, but will you hold my hand?"  The question in your eyes, the doubt that said 'please don't reject me', reminded me that you, too, were human, despite your confidence.  It was that moment when I crawled into your hospital bed with you and held your hand like we were 10 year old kids again.  After that visit, I never hesitated to hold your hand or sleep next to you or pet your hair.  It goes back to Loving.  In those quiet moments, we allowed ourselves to be kids again.  You reminded me that Love cranked up to 10 is as potent as Love at 5.  You reminded me that Love is a mutual thing.  You reminded me that it's only weird if you think it is.

From you I learned the Art of Life and Death.  Live with abandon.  If you want it, take it.  If you can't get it, well, it probably isn't worth it.  You charmed Death many times through the years, shooing him away as though he were a moth.  So enamored with you was he that he let you stay with us on your promise that you'd go with him one day.  When you left us, it wasn't with a melodramatic flare.  You slipped away like a whisper in the deepest of snowy nights, despite the fact that it was August and so hot that even the Devil was begging for a sip of water.

I know that you know how sorry I am that I couldn't make it to the funeral.  I know that you know that I never really mourned you.  I know that you know I haven't spoken to anyone in your family since just after your funeral.  I know that you know how much it hurts me that they scapegoated me, but I also remember our conversation some 10 years before when you told me that they would.  I promised you that when they did, I'd be able to shoulder it.  It's better they turn their pain toward me than one of the others.

It's still unfathomable to me that you could have been born into such a cruel group of people.  It stands to your character that you didn't let them dim your shine.  Even more so, it stands to your character that you loved me enough to warn me years in advance.  I never forgot that, either.

I miss you every day.  Some days I miss you more than others.  You are the barometer that I do my to strive for every day.  If I can be half as good to those around me as you were to me, then my life will have meaning.  I will have touched someone.  My only regrets in this earthly realm revolve around you, but ironically, you wouldn't want me to regret anything in regards to what I did or didn't do by you.

Thank you.  Thank you for showing me how to live.  Thank you for showing me how to love.  Thank you for being you and letting me be me.  Thank you for loving me and giving me the privilege to walk this earth with you, even if it was for less than two decades.  I am all the better for it.  

Rest in that place with Kurt, God, and the Angels.

Until we meet again...