eclecticmuses: Letters
Write a letter to someone you've hurt, or someone who has hurt you.
It’s an exercise that her sponsor wants her to do. Get it out, let out any and all feelings of ill or good will.
“Writing letters is a good way to form your thoughts properly,” Janine insists, “They’re not for anyone but yourself.”
She’s supposed to write the letters and keep them in a box. She doesn’t have to show anyone. She doesn’t even have to show them to Janine. Terry considers lying and not writing them at all. But she has nothing better to do. And Janine says it’s cathartic. She could use that. She’s supposed to write a letter to whomever she wants, so who better to start with than herself?
She stares at the blank paper, nothing but the Cassidy Mutant Health Center letterhead at the top. Her eyes focus in and out, in and out for minutes on end. She doesn’t know what to say. Her mind is all jumbled. The longer she waits the more frustrated she gets. She’s never been good at this sort of thing.
Dear Terry,
You’re a selfish little bitch. You get too dramatic and you think every situation has to do with you somehow. You’re wrong. Nothing has to do with you and no one gives a shit. No one ever does.
She knows this isn’t true, but she’s supposed to write exactly how she feels in that moment. So she goes on.
A word of advice: stop stressing yourself out. You’re only making it worse. You’re making people notice. They’re worried about you. No, JP is worried about you. The others don’t care enough to notice. Don’t care enough to ask. What would you say if they did ask? Deny it? Downplay it? What did you say to JP? Do you even remember? Hard to keep up the lie if you don’t remember what you said. Keep the record straight. That’s how you run into trouble. Tom taught you that. He taught you a lot. He taught you why you do this in the first place.
She sniffs back a few tears. Don’t go there. Not a good idea. Keep in the moment. But this is where she is in the moment.
Dear Tom,
You’ve ruined my life. You pushed me to where I am. Why couldn’t you have just found my father? Why couldn’t you have left me alone? Stuck me in foster care or something. Yeah. Except even you knew that would only be worse. I know the stories. I know you did what you could. But every time you tried to make it better, you made it worse. Why couldn’t I have stayed with you, instead of going to boarding school? I hated it there. I wanted out, even if it meant doing more shit for you. You always looked out for me. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until you weren’t there to do it for me. When I had to take care of myself and didn’t know how. And then you taught me how, but by then it was too late. I taught myself how to do it, and I taught myself wrong. Would you have taught me better? Would my father? Why couldn’t you have given me the chance to find out? You taught me to take responsibility for myself, but you took responsibility for me in the end. You always looked out for me, except for the one time I needed you more than ever. Although maybe I just say that because it’s the only time I went wrong.
She’s going off track. She puts that letter down and returns to the first.
Terry, stop blaming other people. You know better than that. You’ve been taught better than that. Take responsibility for yourself. In the end you’re the only person you can rely on, so don’t trust someone else to help you out of this. It’s pointless, and you know it.
Another shift in thought.
Dear Lorna,
Notice. Make me listen. Do that thing that you do, that Lorna magic that you have that makes me listen. Come back. Drop your whole life to save me, the way you do for Kara or Sally. Take me in, the way you did for all your lost boys. You’re Wendy and Peter Pan all in one. You’ll coddle so I never have to grow up, but nurture so that I won’t be homesick. “What makes mothers all that they are? Might as well ask, ‘What makes a star’" Ask your heart to tell you her worth, your heart will say, ‘Heaven on Earth.’” That song always made me cry when I watched the movie. Everyone talks about having a daddy complex. I think I have a mommy one. I think I wish you were. I think you’re the closest I’ve ever had. And I think you think I’m an adult now, so I don’t need a mother anymore.
She blows out a long breath. Janine was right, she was discovering things even she herself hadn’t realized.
Dear Harry,
I wish I could tell you more about what was going on. I know you’d understand. I know you’ve offered. Maybe one day I won’t be so ashamed of myself and I can talk to you. It’s not your fault I feel ashamed. And it’s strange because I don’t feel that way when I think about anyone else. But you’re the example of someone who has succeeded. Who’s overcome. And if I fail in front of you it only makes me worse.
It’s late. She’s tired. She needs to wind down.
Dear JP,
I’m sorry I put you in this position. I’m sorry I burdened you once again. I’m sorry I’m still apologizing, I know how much you hate that. I wish I had someone whose arms I could run to, the way you do. I wish I wouldn’t feel guilty every time I think of doing so. I wish I didn’t feel jealous whenever I think of you being happy with them. I’m sorry I resent you for that. It’s not your fault. You keep saying I’m not a bad person but when I write out a sentence like that I start to really think that I am. I’ll try to do better. I don’t promise.
Time to finish. Just a few more sentences.
Dear Terry,
Hang in there. Remember you have people who love you and support you. And when you think you don’t, think again, because you’d be wrong. It gets bad so that it can get better. Make it get better. You’re strong enough.
Love,
Theresa
It’s an exercise that her sponsor wants her to do. Get it out, let out any and all feelings of ill or good will.
“Writing letters is a good way to form your thoughts properly,” Janine insists, “They’re not for anyone but yourself.”
She’s supposed to write the letters and keep them in a box. She doesn’t have to show anyone. She doesn’t even have to show them to Janine. Terry considers lying and not writing them at all. But she has nothing better to do. And Janine says it’s cathartic. She could use that. She’s supposed to write a letter to whomever she wants, so who better to start with than herself?
She stares at the blank paper, nothing but the Cassidy Mutant Health Center letterhead at the top. Her eyes focus in and out, in and out for minutes on end. She doesn’t know what to say. Her mind is all jumbled. The longer she waits the more frustrated she gets. She’s never been good at this sort of thing.
Dear Terry,
You’re a selfish little bitch. You get too dramatic and you think every situation has to do with you somehow. You’re wrong. Nothing has to do with you and no one gives a shit. No one ever does.
She knows this isn’t true, but she’s supposed to write exactly how she feels in that moment. So she goes on.
A word of advice: stop stressing yourself out. You’re only making it worse. You’re making people notice. They’re worried about you. No, JP is worried about you. The others don’t care enough to notice. Don’t care enough to ask. What would you say if they did ask? Deny it? Downplay it? What did you say to JP? Do you even remember? Hard to keep up the lie if you don’t remember what you said. Keep the record straight. That’s how you run into trouble. Tom taught you that. He taught you a lot. He taught you why you do this in the first place.
She sniffs back a few tears. Don’t go there. Not a good idea. Keep in the moment. But this is where she is in the moment.
Dear Tom,
You’ve ruined my life. You pushed me to where I am. Why couldn’t you have just found my father? Why couldn’t you have left me alone? Stuck me in foster care or something. Yeah. Except even you knew that would only be worse. I know the stories. I know you did what you could. But every time you tried to make it better, you made it worse. Why couldn’t I have stayed with you, instead of going to boarding school? I hated it there. I wanted out, even if it meant doing more shit for you. You always looked out for me. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until you weren’t there to do it for me. When I had to take care of myself and didn’t know how. And then you taught me how, but by then it was too late. I taught myself how to do it, and I taught myself wrong. Would you have taught me better? Would my father? Why couldn’t you have given me the chance to find out? You taught me to take responsibility for myself, but you took responsibility for me in the end. You always looked out for me, except for the one time I needed you more than ever. Although maybe I just say that because it’s the only time I went wrong.
She’s going off track. She puts that letter down and returns to the first.
Terry, stop blaming other people. You know better than that. You’ve been taught better than that. Take responsibility for yourself. In the end you’re the only person you can rely on, so don’t trust someone else to help you out of this. It’s pointless, and you know it.
Another shift in thought.
Dear Lorna,
Notice. Make me listen. Do that thing that you do, that Lorna magic that you have that makes me listen. Come back. Drop your whole life to save me, the way you do for Kara or Sally. Take me in, the way you did for all your lost boys. You’re Wendy and Peter Pan all in one. You’ll coddle so I never have to grow up, but nurture so that I won’t be homesick. “What makes mothers all that they are? Might as well ask, ‘What makes a star’" Ask your heart to tell you her worth, your heart will say, ‘Heaven on Earth.’” That song always made me cry when I watched the movie. Everyone talks about having a daddy complex. I think I have a mommy one. I think I wish you were. I think you’re the closest I’ve ever had. And I think you think I’m an adult now, so I don’t need a mother anymore.
She blows out a long breath. Janine was right, she was discovering things even she herself hadn’t realized.
Dear Harry,
I wish I could tell you more about what was going on. I know you’d understand. I know you’ve offered. Maybe one day I won’t be so ashamed of myself and I can talk to you. It’s not your fault I feel ashamed. And it’s strange because I don’t feel that way when I think about anyone else. But you’re the example of someone who has succeeded. Who’s overcome. And if I fail in front of you it only makes me worse.
It’s late. She’s tired. She needs to wind down.
Dear JP,
I’m sorry I put you in this position. I’m sorry I burdened you once again. I’m sorry I’m still apologizing, I know how much you hate that. I wish I had someone whose arms I could run to, the way you do. I wish I wouldn’t feel guilty every time I think of doing so. I wish I didn’t feel jealous whenever I think of you being happy with them. I’m sorry I resent you for that. It’s not your fault. You keep saying I’m not a bad person but when I write out a sentence like that I start to really think that I am. I’ll try to do better. I don’t promise.
Time to finish. Just a few more sentences.
Dear Terry,
Hang in there. Remember you have people who love you and support you. And when you think you don’t, think again, because you’d be wrong. It gets bad so that it can get better. Make it get better. You’re strong enough.
Love,
Theresa