October, 2001:

I thought you needed me
because you loved me.

I thought I was more to you,
More than the sum of the duties I performed.
But now that you have someone else,
Someone to perform those duties,
I see the truth:

You loved me
because you needed me.

I will always love you:
as a fish loves water,
as lungs love air,
as trees love sunlight.

I have said this all before.

I’m not sure how far these scars go. I’m not even sure when they got so deep. I remember when they started, though. I remember seeing my skin split open and you rolling around in that valley of blood.

That was a year and a half ago. Or was it a month and a half? Either way it seems like forever.

I had done so well before you. I was strong. I stood up for myself. I didn’t back down. I was getting there, anyway. And I let you twist my soul and my will like school children give Indian Burns.

And now you are done with me. Look at what you have left.

I will rebuild. I am resilient. This has happened before, and I will do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

I will not be threatened. I will not be tricked into feeling bad for you. I will not be told that I can’t have a bad day, or that the world stops when you raise your arms.

I sound bitter. I sound angry. I am not. I am not threatening. I am not even warning. I am just telling you what I feel and of the resolve that I have within me.

I found two pieces of paper last night. One of them was a note that was written to me. It was left on my kitchen counter several years ago:

6/9/1998

Daniel,

I got you some pie from Tippin’s (apple) I got some for me, too. But, looks like you’re too busy to eat it with me, so I’ll just leave it here for you. I kind of wanted to hang out with you tonight, but I guess you and Tony already are. If you want, call me later.

Love,
A

Then, in a writing book, I found a “response” I wrote to her note, several years after she wrote it. I never gave her this, as it was not really meant for her to read.

5/11/2000

I lay asleep, but not.
because I heard you come in.
I toss and turn as you touch me
faking reality
suppression.
I know what you want
I know why you came
But your filth is not bearable.
Unable to wake me,
you leave
a note
and a
still warm apple pie.

And as I eat your
American virtues
I wish I had not faked slumber
to avoid your dirt.
Instead I
wish
I had
devoured
YOU
while I had a chance.
Instead of your fucking apple pie.

I still talk to her on occasion. When she has time for me amongst her new friends, and her new job, and her new drug habit.

I just have to accept that if we were to go to Australia, she would be with him and not me. Once I get past that, the rest gets a lot easier.