Quite The Timing.

Last week I received a letter from my Dad. I thought it odd, since he contacts me through snail mail about as often as do my two pets. Intrigued, I opened it and found another envelope, unopened, inside. Taped to the envelope was a return address clearly ripped from a brown padded mailer. On a Post-It, my Dad had written, “Almost, this was forwarded to my office.” Actually, I’m guessing at that last part because my Dad’s writing consists of him putting a chicken in a plastic bag with a piece of paper, some ink, and shaking it.

Since my dad is an attorney, I began to get anxious that perhaps I was embroiled in another legal matter of which I wasn’t aware. Until I saw that the envelope was marked, “To Almost. Personal and Confidential,” in handwriting. Handwriting that I recognized but couldn’t quite place. It was like seeing an irritating old relative whose name you can’t quite recall. You know that you don’t like them, but you can’t remember the reason and you still can’t find their name in your head, dammit.

I sat down at my kitchen island somewhat nervously and opened the envelope. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been more surprised if the letter had gotten out of the envelope, done a dance in drag, and sung its contents to me operatically.

“Almost,

I hope this writing finds you having the happy, peaceful, and joyous life that you are so deserving of. When (and if) you read this, you will in actuality be reading a document that has been more than three years in its’ writing and is a culmination of more than eight years of secrets and deceptions. It is the result of years of thought, progress, pain, and so many other emotions. On this nine-year anniversary of the beginning of our relationship and the 6-year anniversary of the end of it, it is my sincere and most heartfelt intention to apologize to you from the deepest recesses of my heart and my soul. I loved you with so much of myself that I couldn’t even begin to acknowledge any of this until just a few years ago. I live with the belief that I hurt you deeply. I am so very sorry… for everything.

I can only imagine what you have heard and been told since we parted and I left our city [for a state far away]. Many rumors have circulated. Suffice it to say that the consequences of that very convoluted life I lived have been harsh and relentless.

I find myself thinking of you often and remembering what it felt like to be loved by someone as kind and pure of heart as you. I remember the times of joy and the times of pain that we experienced together. Little did I know that those were the feelings of being alive, something that I have not felt since we parted. The love we had that I single-handedly destroyed is the benchmark against which all who have come since are unwittingly measured against, with none ever beginning to scratch the surface of what was the enormity of that love. You were perfect in every way, as the flaws that I exploited were what made you flawless.

The sole purpose of this note is to leave you with a hint of how sorry I am for everything. It is rare to find the greatest love of your lifetime. I squandered mine and I will live with that pain forever.

I pray that your life is a reflection of the beauty and happiness that you put out into the world and of the pure joy and unspoiled humility that is your hallmark. Having loved you is the greatest joy and the most honored privilege that I have… two things that can never be taken from me. I would give my very life for your forgiveness in your heart.

Merry Christmas to you and your family, and a life-long wish that you live immersed in the love that is you.

Respectfully and regretfully,
First Ex”

I’ve only had my heart broken once, and it wasn’t Ex. The first time I fell in love, it was with a slightly pudgy, older, balding man who was a good 3 inches shorter than me when I was in heels. I’ll save you the lachrymose moments and just say that he broke my heart so badly that I went from 120 healthy pounds at 5’7” to 94 pounds in a matter of months. I subsisted on cigarettes and one bagel and one coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts every day. I was bartending full time then, and as soon as I got in my car at the end of my shift, I’d burst into tears. And I don’t cry.

As you might imagine, that letter was from the man who broke my heart. When you first love and you’ve never been hurt, you love with a reckless abandon that, in my experience, never returns for your next loves. I had always tagged First Ex as a sociopath because his lies just mounted to the point where I couldn’t navigate my way through what was a lie and what was half-truth, and he seemed to have no conscience. There was no honesty, so after three years, it was over. I married Ex just over a year later.

Lauren, who has also known him for years, doesn't trust him and told me to write him a letter with no return address indicating that I had forgiven him for myself, not for his sake. My Mom asked how I felt, and I could honestly tell her that I didn't feel anything because I had forgiven him long ago. My Dad was blown away, but basically thought it was touching.

Though I truly don't feel blindsided or emotional about this correspondence in the least, it is bizarre timing. I'm facing a trial in three and a half weeks and the one man who absolutely shattered me came out of the shadows at this very moment.

So I’m left with two questions. Was I blinded into marrying the wrong man because I’d had my heart shattered and I was suffering the repercussions of my own poor judgment? And how do I respond to this letter from First Ex, or do I at all?

P.S. Click on the "Lauren" link to get to her blog. I promise you'll enjoy!