Another “Open” Letter…

Dear So-and-So:

This one time, I wrote you a letter that I thought I would never send you. It was scathing; it was honest. It was the most honest letter I could ever think to write you because it reflected exactly what I was feeling in pointed terms. I’m not good at being pointed. I’m much better at meandering, at skirting, at hoping to ‘imply’. Implying with you though, was never enough. Even when it was enough, you abused it and you chose to haplessly ignore all ‘implications’ of our friendship; or, you would let all implications  happen without saying anything, so you could receive continued attention. Eventually, I realized something: the only way to gain closure from a situation, if indeed closure is what you want, is to create it yourself. Because no one is ever going to give you the closure that you need, even if they try – which you did not do.

I’m currently sitting around wondering how to compose a letter that I’m not going to send again, unless it becomes imperative to do so. I can’t remember how easy it was to start writing the letter I sent to you. I feel as though things were less complicated with that letter. I was far less concerned with wording it and more concerned with ensuring that I said everything that needed to be said. I didn’t care how you took it or what you thought of me. My objective was closure and my objective was met. After I composed the letter, you disappeared from my life forever and I was finally, after waiting so long to be able to say so, over you. Being over you was something I once felt impossible. But a few minutes of transcribing this handwritten letter and one click of the mouse, and we were finished. You sent a response but I didn’t dignify you by reading it. Why? Because I got what closure I felt I deserved through my own initiative. Your reply at that point was moot and unnecessary – and in fact, probably crass, rude and cold-hearted.

While it’s fair for me to say that my one hope is, maybe you’ve changed and you are more cognizant now of people’s feelings and people’s  thoughts, what I’ve realized suddenly is this: I thought I learned a lot from writing that which you read, but clearly I haven’t. I thought I gained a lot of freedom and closure from writing that letter to you. And what I should have realized is that closure is good, healthy, and can save yourself a lot of heartache – the simple kind  that comes just from wondering.

The thing is though; we live in a culture where it is easier to tell people we hate them, than it is to say we love them. Because we’re looking out for number 1 and if you say you hate someone, you’re hurting them – and oftentimes, not yourself. It is harder for me to fathom sending a letter to someone going into great detail about my feelings of love I have towards them as opposed to the letter I sent you. Both are heartfelt but one sets me free, and the other one puts me at the mercy of someone who could break me in half.

I hate myself for continuing to write to you. I wish I wasn’t doing this right now and it kills me to do so but sometimes I think everything I do in my personal life to connect with people in the way we connected, as brief as it was, relates back to you and the mistakes I made that forbade anything going further than what I had anticipated. I tend to refer back to the best example I know – the one that made me the kind of person I more wanted to be, than the kind of person I was when I was with you. And yet, it’s not helping me this time. Instead, I found myself staring at a blank page waiting for nothing to come to me because somehow my words seemed cheap, overwrought and shameful.

Or maybe it’s because there’s no truth to the words I’m trying to say. And in trying to say them I’m trying to recreate something I had with you that in no way reflects my romantic reality. Maybe there’s something that I wish could be said to somehow capture someone’s imagination because like you, there’s an opportunist in me. It’s confusing, isn’t it? I know you know that, because years later, I’ve lived enough life to know the kind of position you were in. I never saw a grey area before, but it’s slowly emerging. It’s slowly making more sense to me. Maybe one day, it will be illuminated completely.

Until then,

M

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