A little over a year ago my world stopped. It took me a whole year to even realize how abruptly it stopped. How depressed I was, how unhappy, unwilling to continue without you there.
You meant so much to me, probably more then you ever knew.
I know I hurt you all those years ago. I’m sorry for that. I disappeared and you didn’t even know why, and I wasn’t in a position to tell you.
I was mad. I was hurt. I was totally broken and devastated, all because of what you did, even thought you never meant to hurt me. And it was too much for me to be around you, angry and hurt as I was. So I stayed away.
I couldn’t talk to you about it. You were already 90 y/o and I feared that if I told you how my world collapsed on me, how you contributed to it, and actually caused it, it would be too much for you. I feared that knowing might kill you, and I would have to live with that. So I stayed away.
I stayed away until I understood. Understood how a simply story got so twisted in your mind, how it became the truth to you, and that’s what you told me. I understood you really did believe that that was what happened, even if the actual truth was far from it.
With understanding came forgiveness, and only then I could come back. But it took time. A long time.
Only a few months after you died I realized how it must have looked like from your point of view. You must have felt abandoned by me, and that’s why you were so hurt and so mad. You basically wrote me off. I guess you didn’t want to get hurt again, thinking I wasn’t coming back. And when I came back, I guess you were scared I’ll leave again, and stayed guarded.
But I didn’t go away again. I came back cause I forgave.
I always knew you never meant to hurt me.
I always knew that what you told me – you believed was the truth, even thought it couldn’t have been farther from. Even thought it ended up hurting me in such a basic way, that when I finally heard the truth, my world turned upside down on me.
And I know that if you ever had any idea what I was going through – you would have blamed yourself far worse then I ever did.
I wish we could have talked about it. I wish we could have gotten over that and gotten back to what we had before, but I know that couldn’t be.
And in those last final years you were still so mad, and more then once I left your place crying, asking myself why am I doing this to myself. But I knew I had to be there. Only now I realize it was to prove I’m not going away again – no matter what. To show you that I’m there for you.
I know I whispered to you at the end that it’s okay to go, but that was more for you than for me. I wasn’t ready for you to go yet. I wasn’t ready to let you go.
I’m crying as I write this letter. This letter you will never read, never hear. But I think the words had to be said. Had to be written.
I am finally ready to really let you go. I am finally ready to start living again, to create, to rejoice. I missed that, and I didn’t ever know it.
I love you. I always have and always will, and you are such a big part of me, and will always be with me, in my thoughts and in my heart.