Live Well. Be Well. Be Happy

After seeing the Netflix film A Marriage Story, I decided as part of my healing journey to write a letter to my ex-husband of the good things that were in the marriage for me (just as the main characters did for each other in the film). So I wrote of the good things I would remember regardless of the pain I had suffered.

I composed it some time before I actually sent it, in fact I wasn’t sure if I ever would. When I did send it, it was on the night I was at my most ill with coronavirus, when I wasn’t sure if I would make it. That fear of not seeing the morning gave me the courage to send this to him. I wanted him to have it, despite everything.

Of course there was only silence from him in return, I don’t know if he read it or just deleted it, but these are my words written in a space of healing to the man who had hurt me deeply and never gave me any closure.

There are parts that may not make sense to to others who have not experienced a trauma bond. I have had a lot of work to do on myself to learn where the roots of my need for a trauma bond have come from and to learn to give that love and value to myself instead of seeking it in places that are destructive. But for a long time, I was his, heart and soul. It was a crime I committed against my Self. A crime I will never commit again.

Even so, this is how it is to be mired in a relationship with a narcissist. One sacrifices all in the pursuit of their ever elusive approval and love…even after it is gone, it can take months, even years to heal.

And so, here it is, the letter I wrote to him….

I remember it like it was yesterday. The moment I saw you standing there in the airport, waiting to meet me. That was a good moment. A beautiful moment.

And you, my god you were perfect, handsome, strong, well dressed. You smiled at me, neither cocky nor lacking in confidence. A perfect smile. A smile that said: She's the one. And my heart. Oh, my heart. You had me at that precise moment.

When I left the airport, I knew you were the man I would marry, the man I would love with all my heart. The man I would be proud to be married to. The man I would want to see succeed no matter what.

You were my Urhi-Teshub. My pillar of gold. My tower of strength. My rock. My everything. I loved you so much. So much.

But you were not happy. And this is why we are no longer together. Because I did not make you happy, and I wouldn't let you go because to lose you would destroy me. The vacuum you would leave behind would end me. So you stayed. Even though in the end, it made you miserable. You did this. For me. For far longer than you wished. Do you know how much your doing this made me love you more? I realise now the day you left, you were already gone. When you walked out the door, your body was the last piece of you to leave. Your heart and mind were already lost to me.

Even so, despite the horror of our marriage's denouement I remember many happy times with you. Hours spent watching K-Dramas and the conversations we would have about them in between episodes. Walks together with Harvey under the Milky Way. Our magical trips to Gotland. That time we climbed the wall and went into the closed Viking village and explored it all to ourselves. The hundreds of times we cooked together, drank wine together. The bakery in Figeholm. The weekend in Stockholm at the Diplomat Hotel. That passionate kiss we shared in the elevator of the Hilton in Stockholm. The house we renovated together. The garden we brought to life. What incredible things we achieved. The times you would make an offhand remark that would totally slay me and I would just laugh and laugh, filled with the joy of your razor-sharp wit. The star-filled night we drove back from M's and S's wedding with the music at full blast as we tore through dark forests lost in the magic of our solitude. Dinners at Fisk in Norrkoping. The multitude of times you saved me in WoW, your avatar a perfect representation of the man you were to me in reality. A hero. A warrior. Unstoppable. You were M through and through.

How you sat on the edge of your seat as you read the next installment of Daughter of Azeroth before anyone else, and your expression once you finished, a mix of blinked back tears and raw emotion. You loved my writing. You loved my stories. It meant everything to me that you did. The presents you would bring me. Perfume. Vegan treats. Things for the cats. The night you brought home the cat tower I had tears in my eyes. I couldn't believe you brought that massive thing all the way home. The cats love it so much. And I adored you for giving it to them. The sound of the key in the lock when you came home after a long time away. The weight of the sorrow we bore in the hours before you would leave again. The tears I shed when your car went around the corner and you were once more gone and house sank into silence... The time Harvey had the face mask and ran around with it as ridiculous as a clown. How hard we laughed. Together. These are memories I will never relinquish. These and thousands of others.

I will never ask you to remember our marriage as I do, I only ask you accept this is how I remember us. For me, this marriage was the center of my life. You were the center of my life. It has been almost nine months since you left. I understand we cannot be together, but it is not as easy to turn off my feelings, and walk away from a decade of memories as though none of it ever happened. Your presence has been a huge part of my life. I wrote almost five books while I was with you. The dedication I wrote to you in The Call of Eternity still stands. It is you, it will always be you. Even if it is not you.

I miss you. Even now. Even after all the hell. I still miss you. It will take me a long time to move on. Perhaps I never will. I suspect I will just fill the empty space with meaningless affairs. I don't know if I can ever commit to another man as I did to you again. I gave you all, there is nothing left for anyone else. Passion perhaps, but not this. Longevity, endurance, the willingness to sacrifice so much so another can pursue their life. I will never do that again. I can't. You got it all.

You gave up so much for me. And now I must do the same in return.

Farewell my husband.

Be well. Be successful. Be loved. Be happy. Be healthy.

Think kindly of me. Please. I shall need it in the days to come.