Thank you for leaving. Thank you for taking your leave and not taking me with you. Thank you for realizing it was time to go, that it was time to leave me to be on my own.
Here’s what’s happened since you left: I’ve become guarded and emotionally closed, I don’t open up and make friends as easily as I used to, I don’t trust people anymore. I find connecting at all with others difficult, but I do it because I know it’s going to help me heal if I do. The thing is that you left without saying goodbye, and for some situations that’s acceptable, but not in yours. But thank you for leaving because it showed me how much I was already doing on my own. You talked a big game about how much you did for me, but when it came down to it, when you left my life was relatively unchanged, it remained functional. I say relatively because it did change significantly, because you are--were--a significant part of my life and my identity. And now suddenly I’m trying to figure out adulthood and trying to do my best and I have to keep myself from saying “I’m doing my best to make you proud” because it isn’t true anymore. I stopped worrying about whether or not you were proud of me when you told me to go to hell. Roll your eyes and shake your head, go on. Act like those words don’t carry real weight. Ask everyone else if I’m “still mad.”
Still mad?
Still mad?
Thank you for leaving because yes I am still mad and I can’t imagine what lie you’d have cooked up to twist the situation back on me and make it my fault if you had stayed. Still mad? As if I have no right to my own emotions, as if I have no right to be validated in my anger towards you. Still mad? As if my hurt is not more than a temper tantrum of a toddler, overblown and soon resolved by petty platitudes? Still mad? I’m not still mad, I’m furious. I’m enraged. I’m beyond consolation some days and that’s something that you just dumped in my lap for me to emotionally sort through while still trying to live life and function like a normal human being. But what is normal to us anyway?
You showed me that the best way to deal with anything was to shove it under the rug and never ever talk about it. It was “shut up if you disagree because your opinions don’t count when they aren’t the same as mine.” I didn’t realize I even had a voice with valid opinions until you left. I don’t know what you have against disagreements, but I sure as hell hope it isn’t hereditary.
Thank you for leaving. I’m not always happy, but some days I’m not pretending and it’s pretty refreshing. Thank you for leaving me so I could find my voice and realize that what I think matters, what I feel matters, and what I say matters. Thank you for leaving because by losing you I was forced to find myself and accept her for exactly who she is. She’s part you and part this and part that. I’ve got a lot to sort through still, but I at least wanted to thank you, for the last nice thing you did. Thank you for leaving.
Sincerely,
Your kid.
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