Nothing Else to Say
Nothing Else to Say
Here I sit, thinking you took everything from me. And yet somehow, you have breached the last boundary I have--it should be mine and mine alone--my very thoughts, my words. You have robbed me of my desire to speak of feelings, of you, of this; numbed me, so to speak. I have said so much that has fallen on deaf ears that I literally have nothing else to say. Not to you, anyways. So I will say it for me. I will carry the hope that even though this letter will mean nothing to you, it will be instrumental in healing me.
I am finally letting you go along with every last falsehood you represent: your broken promises, your words that never came to fruition, the feelings you never felt but relentlessly convinced me of. I am letting go of the frustration and pain of trying to understand you, trying to understand what you have done and why. It matters not. What matters is that I get out of this with something that you will never have: me. Even though you never realized how precious a commodity you were holding in your very hands, the fact remains--you've lost.
I know you don't care. You are incapable. And that twisted little boy inside you that never got enough would probably love to know that the scars you've left have forever changed me. Here's something you'll hate, though--those scars are making me stronger, impenetrable to loathsome narcissists such as yourself. I will survive you. I will process this in a way I had never processed my dysfunctional relationships past. You have INSPIRED me to do that...to live better, to recognize real love, to not only survive but SUCCEED. I will go on and live my dreams of a healthy marriage full of love and laughter and REALNESS. You, however, will sit at the karma cafe and get served what you deserve. Laugh now, Scott. Pay later.
By the way, after you've repeated your predictable pattern and your attempt at ideal love (doesn't exist, by the way) with this new woman fails, don't seek me out. I will not join your harem of girlfriends turned women friends. I'm above it, I'm above you, and I always will be. Never again will I take your table scraps, your crumbs. Never again will I be fooled by you or any disordered shell of a human being. Seek me out and you will find yourself blocked. After all, one good turn deserves another, Scott. I think it would be fitting for you to know, for a change, how it feels to have someone you want to talk to block YOU, give you the silent treatment. Be very aware, however, that unlike you, my silent treatment is of the permanent type. Make no mistake...I don't manipulate. That's your sole province.
I know you were counting on winning this one. I hate (ok, I love) to be the one to inform you that once again, you've lost. You see, you can never win being who you are or shall I say WHAT you are. The only thing you have succeeded in is losing the love, trust, admiration, respect, loyalty, devotion, and efforts of a truly good woman. I feel sorry for you--sorry that you aren't self-aware to feel such a loss...to feel ANYTHING actually.
And that's what I'm working. Not feeling anything...not towards you. See? Once again, you've lost. Because I know indifference kills you...makes you "unspecial" somehow, doesn't it, Scott? Guess what...you AREN'T special. You never were. The only thing that makes you special are the people you mirror, those whose very traits you covet. THEY are special. I am special. You? You're an imitation of all of that...a hollow shell. Almost 40 and all you have to show for it are a string of memories--without the feelings.
I guess this is a different kind of letter than all the ones I've written you in the past. And I guess that is because now I am the one who doesn't care about YOUR feelings (or lack thereof) now. Nor do I care about going over all you did, said, were supposed to do or say. Those days are over. I don't care about getting you back in my life, getting you to be that lie of a man you were in the beginning. I don't care about saying and doing just the right things to make you "think twice." This is my truth. And I don't care if YOU care or not. I don't love you anymore. Keep that guitar and all the gifts knowing that.
I win. You lose. Game over.