Hate Mail

I received a letter from my wife today. Apparently her daughter stumbled upon it and read it I have very stupidly not made it private. Anyway, she told my wife abiut it who read it. So now knows all of what I've written about her. It's not pretty. Of course, she could be bull shit about having read it. She's done that before. Quite frankly, I don't care. Anyway, here's the email she sent me, presumably after reading the blog:

Dear (Me),

I can not continue to be your friend.

It is very self destructive for me to hang on to you.

I try to forget the horrible way you think of me, and the hateful things you’ve said. I make excuses in my mind for you by saying you didn't mean that, or you didn't know what you were doing because your crazy…

I know that you think I’m “Acting”..When I am nice to you. The truth is, that I am nice. But you just remember the times I have not been in my right mind, The “Evil sister”, as you put it.

It is such a shame that you could not forgive and forget. Like I forgave you for your crazy behavior when you were not in your right mind. Your fear of confrontation got the best of you.

I was not happy in the last years of our relationship either. I saw you drift away further and further into yourself. I missed you and it made me sad and mad at the same time. I felt your growing hatred but made excuses for it, I didn't want to believe you did not like or love me anymore. That was my mistake.

I wanted to make love with you, but you stated so clearly that you had become impotent and it was useless to try, so I gave up.

These last 6 yrs. Have been very hard on me. The Hep C treatments that left you so ill, I was so scared you might leave me by dying. I didn’t want to see what it was doing to our relationship, I thought, “If we could just get threw this, we’ll be O.K.”.Then there were times I had to police you when you had your big razor. The many times I cleaned and bandaged your wounds, The scares I saw from that day on…the constant reminder that you were bipolar. I thought “What am I doing loving such a crazy guy?”. But I loved you too much to walk away.

What a ridiculous letter. Here's my response:

Well, this pretty well sums up how you feel about me. Basically it says, "stay away from me, I hate you. All of the problems have been because of you."

Needless to say, I've made my diary, "Dreams and Things," private now. I can only imagine what yo and your daughter think of it's entries. Quite frankly, I don't care. In one way I am glad you have read it. It is chronicle of the ups and down that I have had to go through in my feelings and events about you (and my previous wife.) It's not pretty at times. Unfortunately I left out the good times. I tend to blog only when I am upset.

Well I suppose you really hate me now. Too bad. Because I have always loved you, even when I seriously doubted it. In the end of it all I got out of the mess with you. Too bad you will never understand. Too bad you will never understand that I still love you. It's simply that I cannot put up with your hatred any more. I cannot live with you. It breaks my heart every time I come into this beautiful apartment that we together designed but you are not here to share it with me.

The drugs make me impotent. You knows this you can accuse me of whatever you likes. But this is really a low blow. I guess I should expect it of you. If there's one thing I have always known it is you that will use anything, however private and hurtful, to attack and inflict pain. It seems to me that you *want* to hurt a person in whatever manner you can. No holds barred.

I'm sorry I have disappointed you so badly and that you have had to make excuses for yourself. I don't believe this. You could very well have talked to me in a calm and non-confrontational manner. But that is not your way. Instead you let it build up so much that you end up screaming and accusing me of, "Not being there for you." Then you run away. You are lucky that I, "Was There," when you fell down the stairs at 450 Fulton in a drunken stupor. I helped you up the stairs to Dorit's apartment and I then went back to retrieve your bags and things. You seem to have forgotten this.

I continued to love you even after you slapped me continuously, then beat on my chest with your fists, and then ran into the kitchen to get a knife that I suspect you meant to stab me with but thought better of it and stabbed it into the floor, instead. You yelled at me, "There's your precious floor you bastard." Of course, it was OUR floor because we were living together in here at that time. You seem to have forgotten this.

The list is endless. But I guess you know tha from reading my diary. But  fortunately you have your daughter on your side to give you the support you need. Like you, she will certainly agree with your point of view and not give a shit about my feelings in the matter. All the Hell I have had to put up with you. All the hate which became increasingly continuous in the days before I broke up with you. 

You are a hateful person.

You will get your wish. I will gladly stay away from you. Consider this reply to your cruel letter the last time I will ever have any contact with you.

So much for communication with one another. Since the letters have been exchanged she has written a little note telling me that I have misconstrued the meaning if the letter and that se was not a hateful letter. If she read it and the blog she wold see just hateful she has treated me:

Read the letter again. It is NOT "hateful"

She just doesn't get it. She has treated me hatefully. How can a person be abused the way have been abused me and not attribute to hatefulness? I just don't get it.

She thinks we should have some contact after all. She called me with an apologetic tone in her voice and explained that she was not hateful and the letter was not hateful and that I misconstrued the meaning of it entirely and that I was the hateful one. The problem she has is that she cannot see my response at the anger triggered by the letter.And besides, the letter has a childish tone, too. And indeed hostile.

She came over around 1:00AM to, "Check on me." I was very wobbly. I had drunk two bottles of wine and was hung over. She helped be into bed and tucked me in. So much for not wanting to have contact. She told me to not read the letter she had sent me and left. 

Later at 2:00AM I got up and hobbled over to read letter, anyway, and that was when I was appalled by its contents. I looked at my checking account and saw that my balance was so low that certain things would undoubtedly bounce. So I rushed to the the BofA tellers at the Opera plaza to deposit $70 I had. As I was leaving I heard my name called out. She had driven her car to fetch me. I was taken aback but accepted the favor. I had half a mind to ignore her and walk away. Again she showed that she wanted to have contact.

I thinks she regrets having written that letter. But know I am very angry at her and it is me who does not want contact with her. I don't know what will come of this hopeless mess.