At this point, it's either say it and possibly hurt people and hope they understand, or don't post anything. And I suppose it's just about posting it.
The reason why I want to share this, is because it marks a very big landmark for me. I admit that I probably should have gotten to this place about 2 years ago, but I was holding on for far too long. And this was the last e-mail that I sent to Ray, kind of marking my final sense of closure regarding our relationship.
This was also a landmark because, despite the fact that it was a direct 1-on-1, it was also the marking of me gaining closure on several other items. And also the thing that triggered me to finally say something to Julie about my sense of wanting something different with regard to our living situation... not entirely certain yet what it is, but at least we've begun dialogue about what is or is not working, how we may be able to solve it, and at the very least getting over the sense of dread that perhaps, if I *did* express some degree of dissatisfaction, that there might have been a very different, negative reaction in response to it.
It's very good to know that I was able to express needing something else, and have somebody say "I am upset that this is not working for you, but I don't want to prevent your happiness," to give a solid foundation to the fact that I can step forward and start spending some time and energy on myself, and find a way of making myself happy, without having to break down every relationship I've ever built to do it. Or without potentially harming my relationship with my children.
Below is the copied version of my last e-mail to Ray. After sending it, I sent him a text saying that I had sent this, and that I was then deleting his number out of my phone. That he was free to contact me if ever he wanted to, but otherwise I am not going to contact him again...
"Sometimes life moves faster than our ability to process how we feel about it."
I think that sums up the majority of my adulthood, actually. I think that even the phrase "hindsight is 20/20" is partially just a symptom of the fact that we're constantly only just trying to make sense of what has already happened, and perhaps not yet catching up to what is happening right at the moment.
So I don't really know where I am right now, but I'm in a major turning point in my life. I'd been over you to some degree until the last major hurdle I'd gotten over, and suddenly I found that I had several regrets... and that my feelings for you had resurged a bit because of my recognition of those regrets. When I realized how much I was ok even whenever I felt lonely, towards the end of my relationship with Vic, I thought about the fact that I shouldn't want to be with somebody that I haven't fallen in love with for the sake of being with somebody. But more than that, I realized that I'm ok, regardless of anything.
I think I've come to start accepting myself better than I ever have before. And in so doing, I started to recognize the ways that I never did accept myself. We've said it before, but when I was with you, I was constantly trying to make myself as small as possible, to make myself fit into your life as it was. But more than that, I recognized that there were 2 things that I honestly have regretted since then. The first was the conversation that we had, where we both expressed concern that our relationship with each other would somehow damage your relationship with Steve. The second, which is related in my mind, was that whenever it became clear that Steve was never going to make room for me, I didn't fight for you, but instead I simply ran away. I left, because my assumption in both of those cases, was that you were always clearly better off with Steve than you were with me. And I made that choice for you, instead of recognizing that it was then, and
always has been, your choice, not mine, and not Steve's.
What I've been having a lack of closure on lately, and why I had that resurgence of feeling for you, which prompted a lot of the drunk texts, was to confront those regrets, and to put the choice back firmly in your hands. The choice is still, and will always be, yours to make.
The thing that I needed was to give that back to you. To let you know that the power that I took from you by leaving, is back in your hands. From your last text to me, it seems clear to me what your choice is. And I'm ok with that. In fact, I think that's good for me in a lot of ways. I've come to an interesting place in my own journey here... this is the first time that I really feel like I am getting absolute closure with regard to you. Not that I think that I'll somehow either never see you again or somehow renew some new and different sort of relationship with you, but because I feel like there's nothing more that I need to go through. This is it. The ability is yours to choose what type of relationship, if any at all, you want to have. Because I don't need to run anything more by you, or to wonder whether your last conversation was a subtle way of you trying to tell me something, or whether you are as resolved to the way things went as I have
been.
For the last several months, I've been trepidaciously considering having a confrontation with my mother about our relationship, with the possible conclusion of cutting her out. At the same time, at my last therapy appointment, I finally admitted my feelings of feeling trapped in my living situation and several of my thoughts regarding moving out and being more independant.
When Andy and Ben backed out of camping, I was initially really upset. In my opinion, they were my "stable" friends, the ones that I feel like I can rely on. They have been playing the role of my anchor. Just like you had for a while, within a different context. Things have also come to *a* conclusion (though not even necessarily *the* conclusion) with regard to Barry. And even now, after reconciling with Matt, I've also pretty much let go of him as being relatively superfluous to my life.
For the first time, I'm looking to the possibility of having a life that has absolutely no anchor at all. Of being fully and entirely on my own. And knowing that it's not because of the fact that I'm incapable of having somebody care about me, or because of other people's abandonment or anything of that sort, but almost like an opportunity. An opportunity to achieve something of my own, and to be completely dependant completely upon myself. That is very frightening in a lot of ways. At the same time, it also feels extremely freeing, because for the first time ever, I also know that I am not wondering whether or not I *CAN* do it or not. Because I know that I can.
In that sense, I don't even need to hold onto you any more. I don't have to think of you as a possible safety net or "what if" factor, that maybe... if things went south at home, then maybe somehow some fairy tale ending could still happen with you... But I don't need that, either. I don't need you to catch me if I fall. I don't even have to worry about falling or not. The universe doesn't have to provide to know that I'll figure something out, no matter what happens. My legs are strong, and I've grown so much, year after year, ever since I moved, that I've surpassed the need for requiring other people's validation, or support, or love. Sure, love is nice, and I certainly won't turn it down, ever. But neither am I going to be so afraid of doing without it.
I want you to know that I'm ok. With or without you, I'm really ok. And sure, I'll always treasure many of the memories I have of you. You have often said that you have always felt like it was your job to make everybody happy, and that you always seem to fail at it. Well, you hadn't. Some of the moments that we shared were amongst the happiest I had experienced. But I need to make myself happy now. And I hope that one day you'll start working on making yourself happy. Because I'm also letting go of that fairy tale hope that maybe one day I can be the one to make you happy. That, too, I am giving back to you. Your happiness is your own.
About a month ago, you looked into my eyes, and then you said that you still wanted to see if it was still there. It is, of course. But again, I'm letting go of the fairy tale dream that somehow things might change, and "it" being there will make all of the difference in the world. We live different lives. And I don't envy you yours. Nor do I lament mine. Despite the job I'm unhappy with, despite the debt, or my family problems, or my sense of being on my own, I still feel like I have a pretty good life. And it's not because of anything other than me. Because I'm the one who can still have pretty much any experience I want to. Even with my kids being what I would have considered my last anchor, the reality is that I can have a relationship with them no matter what I do. And maybe I'll have opportunities in another place entirely. There is nothing stopping me from touching down in another city or state, living the type of life that I want to
lead, and doing what comes naturally to me. Spending time with whoever feels welcoming to me. And perhaps even loving anyone that feels exciting to me. And I can do all of that, or none of it, all based upon my own choices.
I'm in a great place. But also a very scary one. And this time, I don't need to lean back on a sense that maybe, just maybe, things will work out. And not only with you, but for years I'd felt as if I was waiting for Ben, too. In many ways, it was my psychological safety net. But I don't need it. I'm ok, with or without Ben, and with or without you. I wish you the world. Because you've meant that much to me at times. This time, though, I need to give that world to myself. Because I've recently discovered somebody there that I've been taking far too much for granted, and discovering that he's a pretty amazing person himself. And in this chapter of my own story, I am looking forward to seeing what happens next...
Forever in my heart,
Brant
