- 8 years ago
A post on here got me thinking about whether I had ever deleted all the email from my ex. We broke up … gosh, 3 years ago this month (!), so quite a while ago. The relationship ended badly, like, the last two and a half years of it were bad, hahaha… many of you have heard that story.
Anyway, as it turns out, I never did, and I just deleted about 200 emails. I kept a few that included contact with mutual friends.
I also found a copy of the letter I sent him when I cut off contact. Wow. Talk about a blast from the past…and a pretty sharp reminder of how horrible that relationship was.
Highlights (it was a long letter, haha):
“What I have concluded is this: I do not love you. Oh, in a sense I do, as a mixture of infatuation, dependence and lust, but in the Biblical, marital sense, I do not and (possibly more importantly) have not for quite some time. I don’t say this to be hurtful; I say it because I have realized, to my own shock, that it is the truth, and I wish to do nothing less than to be honest about that truth.
When we started to date, I believe I did truly feel something akin to Love, but for whatever reasons (and my purpose here is neither to point fingers nor to lay blame), that “puppy love,” or “seedling love” as I am coming to understand it, did not blossom into what it had the potential to become. Instead, it was manipulated and coerced and relied upon far too heavily, until it became a sort of perversion of what Love is intended to be…”
“I cannot speak for your heart, but judging from your actions and what you have told me of your past relationships, there is little doubt in my mind that you also do not love me (in the truest sense) any more than I have ever loved you. I don’t know if you still retain scraps of the initial, pure, seedling love I held for you at one time, but even then, after so long, that sort of love, were it still to exist, would be desperately immature and inappropriate.”
“I am willing, loathing myself for it, to admit, finally, that part of the force to return was lust. But even more than that, the very reason I still have your pictures up and the things you gave me littering my room, is simply an overwhelming desire on my part to feel needed, to feel wanted, to feel special. In sort, a desire to experience what I had thought Love was; a sad imitation of what I am only now beginning to learn Love truly is.”
“That what we once may have had disintegrated is not your fault alone, it was a neglect on both of our parts that allowed it to die, but I have to admit, once things went sour, I do feel as though (in the words of Reba McIntyre), “You done me wrong.”
Over the three years we dated, you hurt me in countless ways, and no less so in the six months since we broke up. But more importantly and more painful than any of those incidences, you have stripped me of an emotional and physical intimacy that was meant for my husband and my husband alone, and for that, you will someday owe that great man an apology. I do not expect an apology to myself, as I should have been more careful in guarding both my body and my heart, and should have seen the truth in our relationship long ago. That fault I accept as my own, and I do not doubt it will be a point of great contention and difficulty for my husband and I to overcome someday.
It breaks my heart to know that you would willfully lead me on in the way you have, and it is entirely beyond my comprehension what would entice a person to treat someone else with such disregard for that person’s personal integrity and feelings. You call yourself an empathetic person, but I can’t see how, if you are empathetic, your heart could have stood to inflict upon me the pain that you have.”
He later went on to date a girl ten years his junior, and messed up her life almost as badly as he did mine. (Well, technically speaking, his cheating on me with her was the reason we broke up, so ‘later’ is a bit of a misnomer, haha.) Fortunately she saw the light and got out. I found a few emails that she and I exchanged as well, wherein I tried to convince her to get out, and tried to tell her that he was two timing us both. She refused to believe me at the time, so I gave up. She thought I was maliciously trying to hurt her. I feel bad for her, but she seems okay now (we’re facebook friends…messed up, right?).
Sigh. Painful times in life stink, but at least there’s growth to be seen, right?