Dear John, (yes, I am aware of the irony)
If I could write you a letter, so as to not hide behind a facade of this 'okayness' I'm putting on, it would go something like this.
The reason I have not ended this charade with you is not because I am liberal or 'ok' with it or because I don't care or because I'm 'different' (your word - your expectation) or anything that you think lets you off the hook. The reason I have not taken everyone's advice and left you is not because I am different from them in any way or more accepting of your behaviour.
It is because I am weak and pathetic. It is because I am not strong enough to end it and I am so scared of being alone. I am scared of being alone particularly here and right now because you are actually my only friend. What kind of friend does this to another I'm not sure...but you're still the only one I have. You're the only person I leave the house for. So I can't give you up, can I.
I am unspeakably hurt...not as much by what you're doing as by...your reaction to the hurt that I felt by what you were doing. The original hurt I felt was extreme, yes, extreme enough that you should have responded with more sensitivity to it. The fact that you didn't respond actually hurt me more even than anything that came before. I am becoming spiteful and embittered towards you and you don't even notice. I hate myself more and more every day for this shriveling weakness that resides in me...and you don't care or don't notice. I am not sure which is worse...
Somebody asked me today why I hadn't ended things already, considering how bad it makes me feel. I said, because I'm pathetic. She said, "it doesn't hurt enough yet", implying that it will. And I believe her. It is getting worse. Every day. Every time you rub it in my face. You say inadvertently; I say to make yourself feel better. When you talk to me about it you feel like I'm 'on board' (your words again), and that makes you feel like I'm accepting of it or 'handling it'. I'm not. I hate it and I hate you for it every single day. I hate myself for not doing anything about it but you've taken every ounce of power away from me that I ever had. I came here with almost no power left in me after a year of the loneliest I've ever been in my life and all of my friends newly gone from this place. And you took what little I had left so that now there's nothing there. I have played every card I had and you've shot them all down and left me with nothing. The only choice I have now is whether to stay with you or not. And how can I not when you are all I have? As sad and pathetic as what we have left is...it is all I have. How can I give that up?
I can't.
But please don't make the mistake that I am 'handling' it. Or 'ok' with it. Or 'on-board'.
I am not.
I am a little more broken every day. I am a little less able to speak up. To cry about it even. Because every day it becomes just a little more evident how little that means to you. And how little it helps me.
If you continue down this road, I will never be able to forgive you. I may never be able to forgive myself. Certainly you've already lost my trust by betraying it, over and over again. You wonder how, because you've not lied to me? You've betrayed the trust I had in you to care. You've proven how little my feelings mean to you. That a day or two of drama from her matters more to you than my heart breaking in front of you. You know I'll break quietly. I suppose she'd scream, would she? Well I can't. As much as I'd love to scream these pages at you, I am mute, because the more I talk the less it matters. And the further you go, the less I trust you, the less I can speak my feelings to you, let alone scream them. I'm just not a screamer and it's already hard enough to speak quietly to you about the things I do. So I guess I'll never get through to you how wretched you've made me.
The things I am learning about myself are not pretty. I have learned that yes, I have strength in my ability to withstand pain. And I have learned that it is only because I am more scared of the other side - that sickening empty void that could be in my life without you to fill it. I have learned that I can be taken advantage of to no end. You lecture me about Kate taking advantage of me...the fact that I'm still lending her money after all this time. And you have no idea that you are doing so much worse? That I would prefer physical abuse to what you put me through psychologically. I am an enabler. You were right. You just don't seem to realise that you are the one I am enabling. You aren't even doing it to cause her less pain. It's entirely about you. To save you half an hour or a day or two days or a week or a month of grief you will put her and me through this hell. She must be going through the same thing I am. And I wish you could just put me out of my misery because I. Will. Never. End. It. Maybe she won't either. But I'd be better off. I know I would be. And still I am powerless. Mute. Immobile.
And it's all because of you.
But what am I supposed to do without you???
The reason I have not ended this charade with you is not because I am liberal or 'ok' with it or because I don't care or because I'm 'different' (your word - your expectation) or anything that you think lets you off the hook. The reason I have not taken everyone's advice and left you is not because I am different from them in any way or more accepting of your behaviour.
It is because I am weak and pathetic. It is because I am not strong enough to end it and I am so scared of being alone. I am scared of being alone particularly here and right now because you are actually my only friend. What kind of friend does this to another I'm not sure...but you're still the only one I have. You're the only person I leave the house for. So I can't give you up, can I.
I am unspeakably hurt...not as much by what you're doing as by...your reaction to the hurt that I felt by what you were doing. The original hurt I felt was extreme, yes, extreme enough that you should have responded with more sensitivity to it. The fact that you didn't respond actually hurt me more even than anything that came before. I am becoming spiteful and embittered towards you and you don't even notice. I hate myself more and more every day for this shriveling weakness that resides in me...and you don't care or don't notice. I am not sure which is worse...
Somebody asked me today why I hadn't ended things already, considering how bad it makes me feel. I said, because I'm pathetic. She said, "it doesn't hurt enough yet", implying that it will. And I believe her. It is getting worse. Every day. Every time you rub it in my face. You say inadvertently; I say to make yourself feel better. When you talk to me about it you feel like I'm 'on board' (your words again), and that makes you feel like I'm accepting of it or 'handling it'. I'm not. I hate it and I hate you for it every single day. I hate myself for not doing anything about it but you've taken every ounce of power away from me that I ever had. I came here with almost no power left in me after a year of the loneliest I've ever been in my life and all of my friends newly gone from this place. And you took what little I had left so that now there's nothing there. I have played every card I had and you've shot them all down and left me with nothing. The only choice I have now is whether to stay with you or not. And how can I not when you are all I have? As sad and pathetic as what we have left is...it is all I have. How can I give that up?
I can't.
But please don't make the mistake that I am 'handling' it. Or 'ok' with it. Or 'on-board'.
I am not.
I am a little more broken every day. I am a little less able to speak up. To cry about it even. Because every day it becomes just a little more evident how little that means to you. And how little it helps me.
If you continue down this road, I will never be able to forgive you. I may never be able to forgive myself. Certainly you've already lost my trust by betraying it, over and over again. You wonder how, because you've not lied to me? You've betrayed the trust I had in you to care. You've proven how little my feelings mean to you. That a day or two of drama from her matters more to you than my heart breaking in front of you. You know I'll break quietly. I suppose she'd scream, would she? Well I can't. As much as I'd love to scream these pages at you, I am mute, because the more I talk the less it matters. And the further you go, the less I trust you, the less I can speak my feelings to you, let alone scream them. I'm just not a screamer and it's already hard enough to speak quietly to you about the things I do. So I guess I'll never get through to you how wretched you've made me.
The things I am learning about myself are not pretty. I have learned that yes, I have strength in my ability to withstand pain. And I have learned that it is only because I am more scared of the other side - that sickening empty void that could be in my life without you to fill it. I have learned that I can be taken advantage of to no end. You lecture me about Kate taking advantage of me...the fact that I'm still lending her money after all this time. And you have no idea that you are doing so much worse? That I would prefer physical abuse to what you put me through psychologically. I am an enabler. You were right. You just don't seem to realise that you are the one I am enabling. You aren't even doing it to cause her less pain. It's entirely about you. To save you half an hour or a day or two days or a week or a month of grief you will put her and me through this hell. She must be going through the same thing I am. And I wish you could just put me out of my misery because I. Will. Never. End. It. Maybe she won't either. But I'd be better off. I know I would be. And still I am powerless. Mute. Immobile.
And it's all because of you.
But what am I supposed to do without you???