Dear Sir:
You are
killing me, a little bit, every single day.
Every breath I breathe, every time I hear your voice, every step you
take in my home, makes me sad, tired, homicidal, and suicidal. I hate your presence in my life with every
fiber of my being and every ounce of blood in my body. I want you to go away. Not so far away that you can’t properly
parent your children (even though you fail at that most days anyway), but far
enough away that I don’t have to think about you being around when I wake up or
when I come home from work or when I fall asleep at night. Just.
Go. Away.
I
honestly, SERIOUSLY, don’t understand why you won’t go away. I have done everything I know to make you
go. The kids complained that we argued
too much, so I stopped talking to you.
That was the only way to create a temporary peace, and yet that didn’t
stop you from haunting me and my home.
You stay here, even though I refuse to look at you or talk to you unless
it’s absolutely required. When I asked
the youngest yesterday which one was worse – arguing or awkward silence – she said
arguing. You know that, because you hate
arguing. You have never really fought
for ANYTHING in your life. You wait to
see what happens. You passively accept
whatever happens. You do horrible
things, and then wait to see how people react.
And then, well, you lie about whatever you’ve done, because you have no
idea how to be true to either yourself or anyone else.
So,
please? Please go away. Do I seriously need to serve you with divorce
papers in order for you to fuck off? Do
I have to be an ever bigger bitch than I’ve been for the past five years for
you to walk away from this cesspool of grief you’ve created in suburbia? I don’t know how else to politely tell you
(ask you, beg you, compel you, force you) to GO AWAY.
If I
have to leave my house and my children in order to find happiness, I will NEVER
forgive you. We will never speak again
if I have to be the one who leaves this life that I have created. (Because let’s be serious, I am the one who
has put this house together and parented our children and paid the bills and
done literally everything which makes a house a home.)
And the
worst part? You have turned my only male
child into a non-communicative mute who retreats at the first sign of
dissent. His only male role model is a
man who sits on his ass in front of the television every time he’s home (that
is, when he bothers to come home) and rejects any communication beyond small
talk and grunting. I hope to god my son
can transcend the lessons you’ve taught him. I hope to god my son can forgive me for
staying in such a tragic, malignant relationship, wherein neither partner grows
or benefits or prospers. I am so
sorry. Forgive my folly, and please don’t
repeat it in your own future relationships.
And to my daughters, never mistake complacency for happiness; they are
not the same thing. Not having dissent
is NOT the same as being happy. Life is
too short to sacrifice the fundamental element of happiness. Don’t settle.
And sir
to whom this letter is addressed: move
on. Please. Stop ruining other people’s happiness just
because you don’t know what else to do.
Everyone suffers because of your indecision and indifference. You have made the last ten years of my life
insufferable, and you have done that through your absolute inability to simply
accept circumstances as they are. I hope
you can live with that after I have died of stress-induced cancer or heart
disease or dementia. I hope your
cancerous indifference eats at you for the rest of your life the way it has
eaten at me for a decade.
Sincerely, Your Wife
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