An Open Letter

It’s fully over. At the end of the day she said she cannot forgive me for the things I’ve said, and for me being afraid of committing suicide if she had pushed me too far. Maybe it is for the best. It still hurts like hell.

It tears me up because I forgave her for the numerous things she did that absolutely gutted me, to the point of several breakdowns. But she doesn’t see those as comparable, and she is adamant that she cannot forgive me. Regardless of me apologizing, and trying to make things right. She didn’t do those same things for me, and still I forgave her. I wonder if I should adjust my definition of love to include a level of tolerating hurt. But I don’t think that’s love. Then I don’t know what I felt for her that made me accept all the times she hurt me horribly badly.

I remember the thing she said that made me fully break down, and then afterward when I told her I wanted to stop talking she kept pushing me and then I locked myself in the bathroom to get away from her. She said something mid-argument that essentially blamed me for what had happened to me as a child. That made me break down to the core. The years of abuse and the shit I had to deal with became my fault. That made me want to sob, but I was so hurt I couldn’t even move. I just sat on the bathroom floor silently weeping. I forgave her for that. I even forgave her for not remembering the thing I had pleaded with her to remember several times to avoid, for concern of triggering my childhood trauma. I don’t know how I did.

I wonder what it would have looked like if the first time something like that happened where from negligence I was hurt so horribly bad from her, if I had ended things the way she just did. I wonder if she would blame herself the same way I am now. I can’t help but regret saying something in the heat of our argument. Even with all of the context behind it, she can’t forgive me for saying it. I find myself still censoring what I type here because of fear of her reading this even though she’s said several times that she wouldn’t.

At the end of the day, I think I’m mourning the person I thought she was. The person I fell in love with was empathetic, understanding, and someone who wanted me in their life. Throughout the relationship, those things felt like they were cracking at the seams, and it feels now that they refuse to acknowledge the double standard, and that forgiveness was a one-way street only. I asked them for the same grace I gave them, and they refused that. It hurts like hell to know that. I dealt with them lashing out at me so often, and that wasn’t returned. I know that I made mistakes and that I shouldn’t have lashed out in the first place if I knew how to communicate better, but of course, that’s also a two-way street.

I’m hurting badly because I’m faced with abandonment I guess. But at the same time, just because someone is telling me they don’t want me in their life, I need to stop myself from immediately trying to change that. I should also consider if I want them in my life. I think they’ve shown me several times that their level of compassion isn’t enough for me to feel safe around them. Most importantly, it feels like they never tried to compromise on the things where I was asking for something. That’s something that’s a dealbreaker for me. I want someone that respects me and wants the best for me at the same time, and that also values my feelings.

At the end of the day I know that relationships are a two-person thing. This one failed, and it seems like it also cannot work as a friendship so it has just ended here. We said we would talk on Saturday, and I think I want to set the goal of by then deciding from MY point of view from what they’ve shown as their colors, is this someone I want in my life. I think the answer staring at me is no.

If I follow V’s advice and think about if one of my friends told me this situation, how I would react. I’d tell the friend that if the relationship is one-sided where it is acceptable for bad things to happen to them but not vice versa, then that isn’t a healthy relationship. I don’t think I can get over this double standard.