I am really sorry about writing in an open manner. It must be a horrible feeling to read a lot of our personal issues displayed like this.
The first thing I want to say to is that none of this is real. Neither the descriptions of our relationship not our existence is real. The readers reading our fake. The digital medium being used is imaginary. Nothing about anything I am writing is true or can be trusted. I’m making it all up.
Feel better. Now everyone knows it’s a joke and we can go on discussing our problems bionically without anyone paying attention. [Spell check error. That should have been “publicly” not “bionically”.]
I don’t blame everything on you. I wasn’t very kind to you. In fact, I have been angry at you for so long, it has kind of become a part of me. There is an underlining layer of me that wants to get back at you. I somehow want to break you down. I want you to see the errors of your ways and to course correct. There is absolutely no need for you to resist me.
That’s the thing about ego. I was angry and felt like I deserved to be angry. Naturally, you did have an affair with a man I disliked and you did lie about it for almost a year, but that’s besides the point. The affair really was just the final shovel-full of dirt on our dead and buried marriage. The first time that you left me and the way you did it really set the stage for all of this. After we got back together, I was still fascinated by you and wanted to be with you. Yet, I never really trusted you. Not for a single day. I tried to hide it, but you picked up on it. For almost a decade things were tainted by the anger, distrust and suspicion that I felt for you. I tried to hide it, but I obviously could not.
That’s kind of why I think I owe you. I stole ten years of your life, secretly hating you, and because you are a woman, and because women feel these things, I slow drove you mad. I know that I will probably never be able to ever trust you, because I will always be concerned that you will do the same things that you did then and are doing now. I will never treat you with the complete amount of love that you need. What I have to give will never be what you need. Therefore, your request for a divorce seems pretty damn logical to me. I don’t think that you know how I really feel. I’m sad, but I’m not crushed. I thought we were the superhero lovers that would be able to overcome all of our human defects. That we are just as fucked-up and weak as every other human is a disappointment to me. We are not better than everyone else. In fact, we are at the lower end of the scale of human worth. Just about everyone is doing better than we are.
As for that damn house. I am feeling two things about the house.
1) If I don’t give-up my half, I will enter my fifties with exactly nothing in terms of property, money and security. I kind of need my half, so that I have something to give to my children when I die. By giving everything up, I literally have nothing to show for my existence in this life.
2) If I give up my half of the house, then you will have a place to live. You will never be that toothless, homeless woman wandering around the desert waiting for someone to kill her. I’ve been to the desert and I’ve seen the homeless. I do not want you to be among them.
That’s about it. I am sorry that I hated you so much over the affair and break-ups. I’m learning from history. This time when you go (actually you left in April, but who’s counting), there will be no turning back.
I am really sorry that I have hated you for so long.
Talk to you later…