An Open Letter

An open letter to the person that was supposed to love me

Aug 8, 2017 at 3:37 PM

Let me take you back to when it all started.
Thursday, October 20th 1994. 6 pounds, 10 ounces…… You loved me then. You loved me at my most vulnerable. In the years following, I grew up quickly. I picked up animals on the side of the road( no matter how grotesque) and asked you to help me bury them just so that they would have a place to rest.
I’m 5 now, you can probably see the light shone between my gap teeth in my school pictures. They called me horse. Where were you?
You and Dad knew it was time to sign divorce papers. Time for both of you to move on and be happy. About 6 months later I met your boyfriend. We went to RJ Gators and you told me you were getting married. To some man I didn’t even know…. what about how I feel?
From then on, I realized that he was your entire world ( & rightfully so )
You were never my friend, you were never my therapist. You were never the person I’d dreamed of. Every day in school, someone would talk about their mom and I would get so jealous. I would get jealous that their mom took them to lunch and then to paint their nails. To have lunch with them. Their moms loved them… but where was mine?
Where were you when I needed someone to tell me I was going to start bleeding and how that felt? Where were you when I needed someone to comfort me and tell me that my first heartbreak was going to feel like my world was ending?
Where were you EVERY SINGLE NIGHT?

Let me paint you a picture:

Kitchen, dinners made, & me. Sitting at the bar, legs dangling. Alone. Every time. I asked you to eat with me but it was an inconvenience. You weren’t hungry.. but I guess beer does that to you. Now I remember… you were on the phone. Where’s my 5 minutes?
I got in trouble for eating in my room, but I kept doing it because I wasn’t alone. I had about 20 stuffed animals and that was good enough for me.
I started working one day a week, and I made $60 a paycheck. Do you want to know where my money went? Clothes. Things I needed. Snacks. Because when you open the fridge you see beer, condiments, and sometimes left overs.
You told me you hated taking me to the grocery store with you because I always asked you to buy me things we didn’t have the money for, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wanted to come along instead of sit in my bedroom.
There was a fire, and one of your friends lost their house and you “adopted” two children when you didn’t have the time for one. But hey, who’s looking? The first weekend at the house, you told me you were taking them to the movies, Superplay, and Chilis. My face must have given it away because then you asked me .. did you want to come? I mean obviously??? I’m not going to pass up bowling & an arcade. So she said, fine you can come, but now we can’t go to the movies because I can’t afford it. Before today, you’d NEVER once asked me for a girls day. A movie day. Nothing. Don’t tell me that things cost money because you can easily borrow a movie, or rent a redbox. You always had change in your purse.
Jumping a little further ahead, I got a little mouthy and began to talk back. Don’t we all at 15? I got a job and I worked as a server and in the kitchen ( for the free food ). I came home late because they close late. I had this job for a little while until you decided it was time for me to be on my own. Your reason? Because I was never home. Pretty ironic if you ask me.
So I couch hopped, you’d send me $20 here and there to help with gas for a car that eventually got repossessed because I was trying to juggle school and a full time job to support myself. Where were you to teach me about car payments? To tell me that is a REALLY dumb idea.
Shortly after, I started developing some medical issues and at one point, I needed to go to the hospital. You took me there and waited until they brought me back… then you left. I had no way home and no money to call someone. So, my friends mom left school and picked me up.
Jumping ahead just a few years, I decided I would join the Army! I’ve never seen you more proud. I was your world. You posted all over your Facebook.
A few months later * my body ached with pain and I came home. I told you a week ahead of time that I would be, and you said you couldn’t nor would you find a way to bring me home from the airport.
I was dead to you. Now you had to tell your friends I was a failure. You didn’t have a daughter who was extraordinary. You didn’t have someone to make you proud.
I married my best friend in 2013. You wanted to involve yourself in my life. He’s in the Air Force, and you always ask me what he likes and how is he doing?
But what about me? You have no idea what I like. You have no idea who I am.
What.About.Me?

Hi! Cadlynne Dovel here, hopeless romantics. Withering relationship, mother of one and animal lover beyond what words can express.

Blog: https://n0tyetforgotten.wordpress.com/

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