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Dear…
Whoever. It doesn’t matter, right?
It doesn’t matter anymore and that’s why I’m writing this because it’s only fair to make sure you don’t think it’s your fault-
But it could be your fault you know? If you look at it from a new angle and see all sides of the story it could’ve been prevented so it could be-
Your fault.
But still, I needed to give myself one last chance to change my mind, to find a reason to go on. But the knives are all sharpened and glistening in the dull light of the kitchen and it’s quiet here, I’m all alone and the pills are next to the microwave and they have my name and I need a reason, a real verifiable, legitimate reason to go on-
Despite my failures. I’m so old you know? And I have nothing I wanted, nothing in my diary that I was supposed to have, that’s important, like a child, or a house, or a book on the shelves.
It started when I was three and you chose him to be a surrogate…whatever.
It doesn’t really matter but it does because you were twenty-four and he was nineteen and he was still a kid essentially and when he came our lives changed forever.
I’m not a cutter or a shooter (I mean illegally, insulin doesn’t count) or an alcohol abuser but I chew my nails to the blood and I scratch at the scabs to bleed and I pull at my hair that grows on my neck until the snap crackle pop and they are free and dark and long. And I eat, and I cry…
Because my daddy left me and a monster took his place.
I remember when I thought it was funny in the basement when he was wrestling with you and his shirt had ridden up leaving a patch of hairy pale skin out in the open and brother dared me and I did, I touched it ever so gently, and giggled into my hand as I scampered but-
The yelling and the door was slamming, the lock clicking, and we huddled together and cried not knowing what went wrong.
I used to wet the bed remember? When did it start? Do you know? I don’t know anymore but I know there was a day you were gone and he locked us outside of the yellow house on the hill and told us not to scream lest the monsters in the woods would come gobble us up but I did…we did and the monsters started growling louder and louder and I begged and I begged and the door was open and I rushed to our room but there was a ghoulie shadow in the window and his friends were laughing and then…
We watched Batman until you got home.
But now I’m getting off track.
It’s hard to tell you this because I have so many secrets, but I don’t want to tell them, but I shouldn’t because…
He’ll kill me, he said.
But it doesn’t matter because that’s what this is for, y’know? So you’ll know why I did it, so you can save sister before it’s too late.
But it’s already too late because I didn’t tell anyone until it was too late and no one would believe me and no one could save me…us…. It was just too late-
To tell anyone. But I did.
I told brother as we sat in a tree and I said:
“He touched me there and made me touch his”
And brother covered his ears and said:
“You’re a liar” and ran away and I was alone.
I told my friends but I couldn’t tell you and it went on and on when you weren’t there to save me and in between the soapy mouths and bruised bottoms and thumb tacks and cigarette smoke, he told me:
“You like it, don’t you” as he pried open my lips and pushed me against the bed like a dog and-
I didn’t like it but he said he would kill me but-
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter because he said he was sorry as I gave other brother a bath and it stopped and the punishments were only mental-
“Grounded for three months, no reading, no music, no breathing”
but now I’m a
“fat bitch, failure, no good, asshole with an attitude”
But it doesn’t matter because I know I’m not but still I’ll never be good enough.
And my daddy, my no good, good for nothing, nothing matters father never-
Saved me-
Never gave me away at my wedding
Never danced with me
Never taught me what to do in danger
Never hugged me and told me it would be…alright?
But it doesn’t matter because I’m a survivor and I’m going to be okay without him, and him and even though I’m not good enough I get
Straight A’s and
I have a good job and
I married a good man and
My dog, cat, future, love me-
They all love me and-
I’ll keep on living until the end even though I know I’ll never reach perfection-
Not for him, for him, for you, because you prefer sister and other brother and I know I’m supposed to do it all alone and I’m strong and I’m beautiful and I’m a survivor and-
I love you.
But it doesn’t matter because I can’t get the words down right and there’s so much more to tell but I can’t do it, I’ll never do it all, and I’ll never tell you because it isn’t fair to burden anyone and make them suffer so-
I’ll stay.
I’ll stay and turn off the water and unplug the toaster. I’ll stay, but weep as I place the knives in the block and cover my arms. I’ll stay and take only one pill not twenty and I’ll never-
Never tell you my secrets.
But-
I’ll stay.
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I read every word. You are so strong. What a troubled upbringing of trauma and abuse you have endured. I pray that you can continue to heal from this and one day feel whole again. Sending love your way 💚
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