I Love You, I Hate You

We never spoke
I was ashamed
But I stayed
I am stronger than you could possibly know
I’m still here
Full of rage
Waiting for you

My Reflection

Lately I have been remembering everything she did to me, it dawns on me to this day how isolated and abnormal I was.
Today I watched a new series called The Act and it made me face again how despite her actions were done in a different way, the outcome was still the same and the desire just as similar.
I am not sending this letter to talk about this, though. There is something only my closest people know: I have visions of the future.

I am not claiming to be a fortune teller by any means, no... These visions show to me as dreams.
It is widely known that dreams are the reflection of our real world, a place our worries manifest into characters and symbolism as our mind tries it's best to find a solution to our problems. For most of my life I have had these dreams that show me the way out of my issues, but it wasn't as strong and as persistent as when I was 17 years old. See... I was fed up with her abuse, I was fed up with her taking my money from the pension and not spending it on things I needed [idk... like FOOD], I was fed up with the humiliation...
One day while I was watching Vsauce DONG videos I found out about a game called Zineth, it was a skating game [which was right down my alley] made by a few grad students which won the award for the competition it was submitted to; despite the weird control scheme I was enjoying the good time it gave me.

The combination of my misery, my desire to find a way out and a video game was the Perfect Chemistry to what eventually became a cascade of dreams that screamed: GO HOME, GO LIVE YOUR LIFE!
Through these dreams I understood the disappointment she felt when I refused to be her Mssiah, I saw the beginning of my inspirations, I met my soul-mate... I went home.
Fast forwarding to now, the end of the decade... The majority of my dreams have become true, I am with the few family members that love me, I have been partners with the soul-mate of my dream for 5 years now, Daniel Kyre committed suicide [i'm sorry], Gabe the Dog passed away [when I found his name]... But the most ominous part to me, something I wasn't told until a few months ago... For some reason he had a dream, he dreamt of me... He dreamt that I would be an important piece in the game. It makes me wonder... Am I real?


-Potential Time and Space Entity

What Happened?

We knew each other the whole summer. Then you finally decided to ask for my number. When we first started talking, I was terrified to think any good might come from this. You were, and still are, sweet, funny, shy at times, and so many other things, and I was amazed that you wanted to spend your time with me.

As the days when on, I let myself be more comfortable about you. I thought that maybe this could be different. We told each other how we felt. You liked me and I liked you, what else is there? Literally the day before, you said you couldn't wait to see me. I even went and bought a new dress. Then you didn't show up. You left me waiting for you, crying.

What happened? You said you liked me and wanted me to meet your family. We were supposed to be a good thing. I cared about you....a lot. The first time I let myself, and this is what happens. I don't regret the time we had; I just wish I knew what went wrong. I've replayed out whole relationship over and over and over, but to no avail. It doesn't help that I see you often. Everything reminds me of you. Everything. I miss you.

I wish you the best, Puffy.

Love,
Musa

Dear You,

On the way home tonight I was listening to music, flipping through stations and being in my dad's car, I came across NPR. They were playing a beautiful song on the piano, a song that was sorrowful but reminded me of you. At first you playing the piano, then specifically of how we had long conversations about a year ago how we didn't want to ruin our friendship with a relationship.

Eventually the relationship developed, it lasted a good bit of time, and we enjoyed ourselves. I fell in love, but that's not my point, that's done with. One day you broke up with me, and I'm over that it's gone, done, and I'm over you.

However, one thing specifically stuck with me that you said. It was something like "I want us to be friends, good friends." In my mind it almost had the "like before" ring to it. Now I ask you, do you remember that? Did you mean it? Do you still mean it? Because this isn't friendship, you're not trying. And if you didn't mean it I can deal with that, but if you meant it and you are just too lazy to try, then shame on you.

Whichever way, I'm fine. I just hate it when people don't say what they mean and you of all people should know that. You know where to find me.


From,
Me

Dear You,

I'm sure if you were to read this, you would know I was talking about you. I would hope you would read it and it would hurt. It would stab you in the chest to think back and know you hurt someone that much.

You know, I wish you knew how it felt from my view when you walked out. How it made me feel pathetic. Like maybe, just maybe I wasn't enough to make you stay. Like there was something so much better on the other side of the fence. But then you made your second, very vital mistake. You tried to come back. You tried to weasel yourself back into that empty space you left in my chest. You tried to make it seem like nothing had ever happened. You thought it would be okay. That because you had realized you made a mistake, that all would be forgiven. I have news for you. I don't forgive that easily.

It's been almost a year now. And every time we push you away, you come back pushing harder. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to walk out on everything you held dear to you. That you had to walk out something you had put so much effort in to. But in finally realizing, it isn't my fault. It isn't my moms fault either.

You were supposed to be the dad. The role model. The person who was my rock. Well daddy, your a crappy rock.

Sincerely,
Me

Dear You,

I had found the perfect man. Even though I had known you for so little time, it was like we were meant to be together.

I saw myself marrying you. We spent countless hours awake at night, talking endlessly. I was the happiest I had ever been.

Then you told me you had to wait. Wait to be in a relationship. Wait to tell your friends about me. Wait to be with me.

I was okay with it. I told myself that patience is a virtue. I loved you, even then, enough to trust you with our future.

Things were okay at first. You still showed me that you liked me. You still talked to me as if you wanted to be with me.

Then, out of nowhere, you changed. You stopped being polite and chivalrous, which is why I noticed you in the first place.

You stopped talking to me - you only wanted me for my body, and not for my "me."

I never thought you were that kind of guy.

And the worst part is,
I still love you.

I wish things would go back the the way they were.

Love (maybe forever),
Me

Dear E:

I have a hard time telling people who you are. I can't really describe you as my ex, because you never will admit we loved each other. Maybe WE didn't. But I sure loved you. I can't descibe you as just a friend, because you were so much more than that. So most of the time, I just describe you as 'the boy who broke my heart'. I know, it's cheesy and campy and cliche, but it's true. So I hope you understand when I say that I am having a very hard time feeling sorry for you now that you are the one with a broken heart.

True, I was nice and chatted with you. True, I tried to cheer you up. I don't even know if your heart was broken, entirely. But I know you wanted him SO BAD. In your mind, he was totally your type: both of you big and manly and muscular and in the medical field, both of you looking for something stable to get you through your two years on the island. So it hurt, didn't it, when you saw him kissing that younger, browner, cuter boy? When you heard that he had said you were 'not his type'? When you realized he had rejected you without so much as letting you know?

You remember how you got all excited when he finally FINALLY agreed to go on a date with you? You nerviously got dressed, did your hair up good, got ready to impress the hell out of him... only to be sorely disappointed at the outcome of the night. Not even a good night kiss! How could something that you had pictured so perfect in your mind go so wrong so fast?

Does any of this sound like exactly what happened a year ago? Let me rewind the reel for you, back up to before you or I came out.

I remember a depressed, confused boy who lived in the body of a beast, a boy searching for someone to listen to him and help him figure himself out. Someone to love him and tell him it was OK to be this boy-beast who loved other men and wanted to be loved back by them. I remember writing letters back and forth in a fury, both of us struggling to express who we were and what we wanted out of life and love. I remember doing this for MONTHS, being your sole confidant. I remember it progressing to "I love you" and flirtatious texts and thoughtful deeds. I remember that I loved you before you were skinny, before you turned heads, before you moved to the big city and had a circle of hot friends around you that you felt you needed to fit in with and started shedding pounds and morals. I loved you when you were confused and hurting and needing someone to love you. All I ever wanted was for you to love me back, and I thought you did.

And then came the summer, and the much-anticipated visit, and the dance on the beach, and clothes coming off the instant your parents walked out the door every day and shushing each other at night so we didn't wake them in the other room. It was the best four days of my life up until that week, and I was in heaven. I thought I had found you, that I had my one. I went home, head in the clouds, thinking things were going to continue like they had for 6 months.

I was so wrong. The utter silence that followed was a million times worse than if you had just slapped my face and told me you hated me. Weeks I waited to hear from you, forced myself to not write, to not bother you. And as time wore on, my love for you ebbed and was replaced by hurt and anger. And when I finally wrote you, broken hearted and finished, all I needed was notice that you had moved on, not a letter telling me you were tired of me.

So I hope you can understand, dear E, why I told you I loved you and always would. And I hope you can understand why I was so happy to hear that your heart had been stomped on by a man much hotter than you. Maybe now you can understand what you did to me, how you took my hope and desires for something good and something that seemed perfect and tossed them to the side like they didn't matter at all.

I don't want your love anymore. I moved past that. I will always love you, I wasn't lying when I said that. All I want from you are two words: I'm Sorry. Before this happened, it wouldn't have meant much, just that you were sorry you had done something you maybe shouldn't have. Now, though, it will mean so much more because you know how it hurts and you will be sorry because you caused ME that pain, because you did that to ME. And maybe it will show you how much I cared about you, to be able to talk to you while you were down about it... and not kick you.

I doubt you'll ever say you're sorry. That's ok, because I doubt this is a letter I'll ever send.

I love you, and I always will,
D

Dear Lil Sis,

How do I even start this letter? How do I find the words to tell you, little sister, it was NOT your fault. None of it was ever your fault.

In the last few months you've been sad and spiraling into the curse that has plagued our family for years...depression, and I know you see it, too. So let's talk this out starting with our Father. Yes I know you would like to paint a rosy picture of what life would have been if he was around but that's because you were too young to remember him and his trifling ways.

No he never hit mommy or cursed at her; he tried to break her emotionally. And I'm sure in private she had her moments but then she looked at us and knew it wasn't worth it. HE wasn't worth it. Our mother chose to raise us. She wasn't abandoned as so many single moms are. She called to her ancestors, her father long passed away and she prayed for strength and they delivered her and US. Though a crucial part of our lives was without the daily presence of a father, we were 10 times luckier to have a mother that moved mountains. We were afforded opportunities that other kids never would have had.

Take a minute and look back on our lives: you were 10 years old in Hawaii, a featured dancer with your African dance troop, and spent an entire Summer in Spain. How many kids did we know that could say these things? Even with two parents.

Mommy worked hard for us, going to a dead end job so she could afford to finish her studies, even taking us to class with her sometimes. She never complained, she just did it! She never once blamed us for his behavior, she even kept his last name to stay connected to us, and she never made us feel like he was an evil person. Her exact words "Some people just aren't ready to be full time parents, but you should still love your father, he loves you".

As we got older he'd appear here and there but mainly it was a check in the mail, a birthday card, an amazing drawing of the three of us but that never filled your void, never filled mine either.

And then I turned 25 and I made a decision to get closure on my own, because clearly he wasn't going to ever provide that and honestly I wasn't interested. I've been free of him for 10yrs now. And in that 10 years I've taken the path my mother prayed for all those nights and now its your turn! You're a beautiful, smart, and talented woman and you are throwing all that out the window because you want for a father, a father that even now manages to only appear when he feels the need to. He hasn't changed, HE WON'T change. But you have to before this eats you alive.

If you don't do it for you do it for your daughter and your mother. But it's time! It's time to stop blaming yourself and lay that emotional burden at the feet of your God and walk away. I promise you it's a lot easier and painless. When we were kids you would recite John 3:16 over and over "for God so loved the world he gave his only be gotten son" well Lil Sis he gave his son so you would never feel like you had to save the world, the people of the world, YOUR FATHER included.

Now you're grown and you feel like some of the bad decisions you've made relate to him. Well, maybe they do. It's still no reason to continue making bad decisions. You're not 17 anymore. My point is that you've learned to recognize the bad so now you need to rid yourself of it and reclaim your happiness. A happiness that you're only entitled to if you participate in it.

I'm sure if you got a chance to read this letter you'd ask me why I'm writing this? Well I'm worried about you, and more importantly your daughter. She's experiencing the same thing only worse because she's an only child. Who does she have to turn to and hide behind? No one. We were lucky there were 3 of us. If she can't depend on you to be strong and selfless who will she ever be able to depend on? When her teen years roll around in a few short years, and her hormones control her every thought, she'll need to have some foundation and she won't if you're depressed.

Of course she'll have us but you and I both know there is nothing like a parent's love in the moments where you're torn. I know you want so many things for yourself, that's normal. But right now you need to focus on her and what's to come in her life.

So I beg of you, stop blaming yourself for what was never your fault and live guilt-free for the sake of you and your magnificent daughter.

I love you with all my heart!

xoxo,
Krishna D.