“The house is not the same
since we left it that day.
Old friends seem to wander.
Our parent’s hands
Cigarettes, wedding bands
While they lied at night,
they lied at night, while they lied.”
“Cigarettes, Wedding Bands” ~ Band of Horses
ANYA: “You don’t even know how much I miss you.”
With every text she sent, she made it impossible not to fight for her happiness. Every bad thought melted away with every heartfelt worded text. An empath until the bitter end, I only knew empathy for her. She needed to see a shiny armored knight stood within her grasp, not the wounded animal whose low self esteem strangled the greatness out of him. The eleventh day in the month of February brought with her a second day of consistency; the Anya I came to love over the last fourteen months. Katie and Andrew should have no say in her decision to separate from their father simply because they did not know their mother’s pain. I was the one who knew her pain, who knew the truth. Everything I ever wanted in life, I knew with absolute certainty was in the best interest of their mother, most notably her health and emotional well being. I wanted her to be around for many years so she could enjoy her grandchildren one day. To be around long enough to see them grow well into adulthood. If Anya remained a victim of her own self persecution, she would never last. Each time the sun rose, the threat she could be harmed or even killed in a car accident, with her kids in tow, was not just probable, but more than likely. I wanted to be wrong about all these fears I had for her and all the negatives about how and why I was encouraged and allowed to fall so deeply in love with her. I wanted everything known in the beginning and even the omitted, to never matter.
Anya had the ability to not only break my heart, but to destroy it irreparably. Yes, I could love again, but through her I knew what love felt like, and if I was picky before, I was beyond picky now. So much so, if I lost this love forever, a single day of loneliness would be one day too much. I could never ever make it back to the start. Like a man stranded out in the middle of a merciless vast ocean, with land thousands of miles away, on a one man raft. The sun could shine upon the water, to create a sparkling diamond sea of hope and the most beautiful sunset, but I could stare right into the sun but yet never see it because I’d be unable to see beauty the same way again. Without her love, I knew I was done, and all I could do was hide how I felt from her because I wouldn’t want her to feel any guilt for my destruction. After this journey, if I was abandoned, this road less traveled would come to a dead end.
ANYA: “I would love to hear your voice later.”
When my work day finished, twelve hours after it began, I called Anya and we talked only of positive things. I didn’t rehash what hurt so much as I only wanted to move forward; to keep the dream alive. Her sweet voice lifted my spirits as she seemed lively and energetic, and I fed off it for the entire twenty minutes we reconnected. Ten minutes after we ended our call, she even texted me.
ANYA: “It was nice to hear your voice tonight. I miss u very much.”
ME: “I can listen to you all day and night. Your voice makes me feel alive. I miss you in every way imaginable.”
ANYA: “I love you.”
ME: “I love you.”
Every time it seemed we were through, that she made her decision on us, she would come right back with more love than ever before. And each time she did, she only spoke more of the truth of her pain, and I planned to catch her every time. I’d even take the blame for things I didn’t feel necessarily were my fault. My own truth pained me as well as her indecisiveness exposed issues of my low sense of worth. A malady that plagued me for nearly my entire adult life. It opened lacerations I was never consciously aware of, as it brought back the failures of my past relationships. How I tried to avoid the pain this one could possibly bring me, before I made a decision based on the things she told me, to give us both a chance at happiness. Although entirely unintentional, I did punish her for my low self esteem issues, especially after all she did for my birthday, unlike anyone had ever done before. I truly loved her and I certainly cared about her happiness more than even she did.
To lose Anya, in any way, was now my greatest fear, equal to death. To imagine losing her in a car accident, because of the life she tried to maintain for her children, could put me in an early grave. If she were to die, I’d want to be with her. Without her love, I could serve no further purpose here. Her smile alone gave me so much to live for, and I wanted to see it on her face for the rest of her days. I never wanted to taste nor see her tears again. She was too beautiful to have a single tear fall from her eyes, unless from joy. Short of killing someone, there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for her. She gave me life as much as the sun gave to the earth and loved me into existence. I didn’t want her to hurt even as I hurt and I didn’t want her to suffer, even as suffered. I wanted her to be the best mom, emotionally and physically, to her kids. I wanted to praise her and heap it on her all day long, so she knew how special and rare she was as not only a mother, but as a human being. To me, there were not enough diamonds on earth that could compete with her value. I just wished she’d take that step to forever and trust me to know we’d make it together.
The next morning, now just two days away from Valentine’s Day, she sent me a text.
ANYA: “Good morning. Missed u last night.”
ME: “Good morning. I miss you every night. How r u?”
ANYA: “Lonely without you. How r u?”
Sweet and honest feelings from Anya set the tone for a focused day at work as I loved to receive them from her. Her sentiment “lonely without you” captured every day of my life since I met her as it was nice to know we were back on the same page. I didn’t want her to hold anything back at all from me because more than ever I needed to know how she truly felt. Why I continued to fight for her when all seemed lost, because I knew the truth within her. It would never be over until we were one.
ME: “I miss u so much. You’re my life.”
ANYA: “I’m sorry. I miss u so much.”
ME: “You’re the best thing in my life. You’re only thing I ever look forward to. You never leave my mind. I miss u to death in every way.”
ANYA: “I want to cry I miss u so much.”
ME: “I wish I could tell you I haven’t.”
ANYA: “I’m sorry baby.”
ME: “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
ANYA: “I know. It’s ok.”
ME: “I love you forever.”
ANYA: “I love you forever.”
I wanted to applaud Anya’s efforts for protecting her kids, but those same efforts now held dire consequences for me. If she never allowed me into her life in such a deep way, I could appreciate her sacrifice for them, but her efforts to protect them now also destroyed me. If she was truly concerned about their protection, and without me questioning her intent, wouldn’t she have to love Jackson to shield them? How could she be blinded to the wrong in Katie and Andrew’s belief she was unloving? How did that particular assessment of her in anyway protect them? It could only make them wonder and question. And what about the times they did question her love for their father? Did she cave in and show Jackson affection? If that was the case, couldn’t she see how it would make me feel after she loved me on such a deep level? How could she truly love me, if her “protection” had no other purpose other than to hurt me and allow me to question her love for me? Just another detail about her life she failed to mention in the beginning.
As the day crawled on, and the missing intensified, I tried to stop the bleeding when I came home, after another twelve hour workday, and stumbled upon a picture she sent me. A picture of her in sleeveless red dress wearing a smile that rendered me breathless I had saved to my desktop computer. I set it as my default screensaver so I could see her beauty in some way shape or form as I realized the reason she sent it to me; for times like this. I then downloaded some of the CD’s she burned for me to my iPod, and in turn, I burned some love songs to a CD I promised her. An hour later, Anya sent me a text to see how my day went and what I was up to.
ME: “The day went pretty good. The firm gave me a few new clients for this year so although I’m a little worried, it was nice to know they had faith in me to handle the new accounts. Since you asked, I just uploaded a picture of you and saved it as my default screensaver. Downloading music on my Ipod right now from the CD’s you burned for me.”
ANYA: “I’m sure you’re going to shine. I believe in you. Do you really have my pic up? You’re too funny! Don’t you love your Ipod? How did you ever go this long without one?”
ME: “Thanks babe. Your belief in me means everything. Your encouraging words always inspire me and I’m grateful for them. No kidding! Love my Ipod! I’ve always been technologically behind the times. It’s hard not to miss you babe so I had to put your pic up!”
ANYA: “I’m miss you too! I wish I had a pic of u but I can’t keep it anywhere.”
ME: “I understand babe.”
ANYA: “I don’t think a picture of you can make me miss you more than I already do.”
How could I possibly ignore this huge statement when I loved her so much? How could I just walk away from someone I loved with my entire being? How could anyone walk away from their soulmate? There were some impossibilities in life, and for me, this was one of them. Being her soulmate, I didn’t have to witness her tears to know they were there. I didn’t want her to just have a picture of me, but to have the greatest love any human being could give her on this planet. I learned now the greatest risk anyone will ever take in this life is to not only fall in love with someone, but to also give your soul to them.
ME: “My heart belongs to you. It always will. I love you.”
ANYA: “Thank u. I love you.”
Just like how the earth circled the sun, my love for Anya was natural and constant. If I could ever love anyone again, I could never love anyone more. I let her love inside to invade a heart I built a moated fortress around for years as I showed her love as great as the love she had for her children. Now, more than ever, I needed a promise. I needed to know if “one day” existed for us. To know the love she felt for me, was really true love.
When the morning of thirteenth day of February came upon us, one day removed from V-Day, which seemed more like D-day for me emotionally, little did I realize the rising of the sun would also bring an early sunset. Late last night, after I finished my journal to deal with the loneliness I felt, inspired by her beauty and all the moments we shared together, I put my heart to text with our memories of fun times in mind. When Anya responded the following morning, little did I know the world I knew would shake underneath me.
ANYA: “Good morning! We have so many good memories!”
After what I texted her the previous evening, I felt an unparalleled response, an apprehension that should never exist after all the love and all the missing we shared. A foreboding sense of fear of loss consumed me, trapped in a web of the ravenous spider that preyed on the mixture of my low self esteem and her cold indecision. And nothing could protect me from the onslaught of negative emotions as the spider of these emotions began to feast as I prepared myself for an even longer day at work.
Later that morning, however, Anya sent me a text that gave me hope the spider was only an aberration.
ANYA: “How’s your day looking? In Newport Beach at the mall now then to the office. Did u work late? I miss u.”
“How your day looking. I miss you” gave me hope she wanted to see me as she was near my office. With a now renewed spirit to feel her words of missing over the last couple of days were indeed prominent and real, I responded.
ME: “I didn’t work late at all. I wrote for a little bit then went to bed. The day is a bit hectic but good! I’m in Irvine today. I miss you too. I hope you’re having a good day!”
ANYA: “Thank u! Have a good day!”
Her text left me even more sensitized about her morning response as I craved actions consistent with her desperate feelings for me over the last two days. I felt so connected to Anya, I sensed things before they even became known, born from a combination of love and fear. And I felt connected enough to know something just didn’t feel right from her on this day. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I could feel its cold breath in the darkness. For her to be at a mall this early in the morning on a weekday was odd, even on a day she planned to go to the office. Could she have been picking something up for Jackson on Valentine’s Day? As much as this remained a possibility, I tried to ignore the accumulation of all the various emotions associated with the greatest fear I’ve ever known, as if today would be my final day of life. Regardless of all I felt, I had to service a new client and navigate through this darkness at the same time.
With every text I sent Anya, I put my heart and soul into, but if sent hers with any apprehension or other unexpected feelings she had towards me, then I would respond in kind, with the same apprehension. But I would always be there when the real Anya appeared, and an hour later, she did.
ANYA: “It’s been raining. Wondering how you’re doing.”
ME: “I’m ok. I don’t think the rain could make me miss you more than I already do. I miss you. How r u?”
ANYA: “I’m ok. I miss u very much. Still hectic at work?”
ME: “Not really. This morning was, only because I had a meeting with a new client, and that kind of set me back on getting real work done.”
After I received Anya’s text, I began to feel better, and scolded myself for my negative emotions as I punished her for a false narrative, I put together in my head based on my past. If our relationship had any real chance, I had to fight the demon of low self esteem, the one who blurred the truth with falsehoods. How women treated me in the past was not Anya’s fault, and I couldn’t rely on her to erase the bad memories with her love, but I did anyway because she had the power to do just that. Whenever I felt her loved failed, I naturally jumped to conclusions, to protect my heart even though it was far too late for it to be protected now.
Later that afternoon, I received another text from her that was consistent with her desperate feelings over the past couple of days, as the Anya I knew, the one I fought every second for, reappeared.
ANYA: “Having a hard day. I love you.”
I tried to look at this through her eyes. Here we were, one day away from Valentine’s Day, and she couldn’t receive flowers from the man she loved, the man she missed dearly. It broke my heart to hear she was “having a hard day”, as my love should be enough for her to never have any hard days. All I needed from her was to see a love for me consistent with all she ever showed and told me. The empath in me would never allow me to want to see her have a hard day of any kind, nor would it ever.
ME: “I’m sorry you’re having such a hard day, babe. I love you too. It’s not been an easy day for me as well.”
Then, like a scorched meteor that failed to dissipate in the atmosphere, her hard day hit the earth.
ANYA: “You don’t know. I found a letter today written by Katie. She forgot to save and close. My heart is ripped into a million pieces.”
ME: “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
ANYA: “I wrote you a letter today and sent it FedEx as well as a copy of the letter. I’m a mess. I’m barely breathing. You should get my mail by tomorrow. I love you.”
ME: “Ok. I love you too.”
“What just happened?” I thought to myself as I tucked my phone away deep into my black slacks pocket. I wanted to call immediately but didn’t know how to respond. She found a letter written by Katie? She wrote me a letter? Sent it FedEx? Her heart was broken into a million pieces? Why did she feel the need to write me a letter now after fourteen months, let alone send me Katie’s letter along with it?
ANYA: “U there?”
ME: “I’m always here, babe.”
ANYA: “Call me.”
And when I did, Anya jumped right into the letter she found on her daughter’s computer. I wasn’t sure if she found it or her nanny did, as it seemed odd Anya would venture into Katie’s room. And why she chose to do so seemed even more bizarre; a mystery I’d receive an answer to the following day in the mail. Although I listened, I failed to recall many details of this particular phone call as her words let my greatest fear for us render me into an altered state. Without Katie’s letter, I didn’t know how to respond to all she tried to tell me anyway, as it seemed whatever she found on her daughter’s computer in that letter, helped to relieve her from the burden of her indecision about us as she pitched this to me as the perfect excuse to stay in her marriage.
As Anya tried to further explain how the letter she found made her feel, she even tried to compare my own mother’s decision to stay in her marriage with her own, but when I countered that my father never cheated on her, she followed up with “how do you know that”? Anya’s response told me she felt her marriage, regardless of the several infidelities, was as sacred as any other. In her abused mind, most people cheated, and hers was even more sacred because her husband copped to it, even though he no longer had the choice to lie. I wanted to tell her I knew my father never cheated on my mother because she never felt the need to take an “all-girls” weekend trip to Mammoth, but I held off as I could tell Anya needed my ear more than my commentary, even though it affected me greatly as well. I had to get the facts first, and needed to read Katie’s letter before I could agree or disagree. If I loved her to death, and I did beyond it, I owed her that courtesy.
Ten minutes after we ended a call, Anya sent me a text.
ANYA: “You’re the perfect man.”
Anya’s words were sweet, but to a person who struggled with low self-esteem issues before she came into my life, this was a damage control text because there was no way anyone would let the “perfect” anything get away from them.
ME: “You’re going to have a hard time convincing me you’re a better mother, better parent, and better person if you stay with him. A hard time. If his actions and inactions have led you to fall in love with another man and for you to feel you weren’t there for your kids. How is he the man to be with for anyone’s sake?”
ANYA: “I know.”
Her response surprised me. No pushback at all. So, I went further.
ME: “He’s done a lot of damage to you, Sweetheart. You probably don’t want to admit that but when he said to you, to look at what you’re doing to the kids, my argument will always be “look at what you’ve done to their mother”. I should not exist in your life babe, now or ever. I should not be receiving any thing in the mail tomorrow, and you should not be going through any of this at all.”
ANYA: “I’m sorry.”
Although I had to work from home this evening to reach my mandatory hour goal, my battle scarred mind knew I wouldn’t be able to get my work done on this particular night. When I got home, I texted Anya to see how she was doing.
ANYA: “I’m at Debbie’s drinking. Feel like crying again.”
ME: “I’m sorry babe. Wish I could be there to hold you. Did you tell her?”
ANYA: “No baby.”
ME: “Sweetheart, please don’t be sad. Let me read her letter tomorrow so I can better understand all you’re feeling right now. I’m sorry if I said anything to upset you. I know you need my ear and I’m here.”
ANYA: “You have to know Katie. I’m not saying it cuz she’s my daughter. Actually, after you read her letter, you’ll know her better than any other man. You’ve seen a lot.”
After I read her last text, I had to wipe away a tear from my own eye that hit my phone screen as I imagined her with an unsteady hand as she texted this to me. I will now know Katie better than any other man? Even more than her own father? With her words I felt what had to be a first for a human being: to feel both special and heartbroken at the same time. Without actually knowing Katie, I knew her better than any other man through her mother. And for Katie’s mother to recognize such a significant thing, provided me with even more justification in feeling all I did for both of her kids. Anya allowed me to know them intimately from afar, because she knew I cared about them too. That I wanted to protect them as much as she did. I never wanted them to know the truth about me or about the details of the relationship between their mother and I. I only wanted them to know one simple truth about this great tragedy between a mother and her children; why they thought the most loving person I ever knew in this world, their own mother, appeared to be unloving. A tragedy played out before my very eyes if they went through the rest of their lives believing that was true.
She’s the only person I knew who could love someone naturally, almost without consciousness. She just had a way of loving someone, and even as she tried to bring an end to all we shared, I felt nothing but love and warmth, but I needed to verify her love for me and the capacity in her ability to love to feel secure, comfortable and safe. I carried no anger towards her at all, but rather towards the man who led her to me, which he did. Without a doubt, both directly and indirectly, Jackson was behind Katie’s letter, as I believed he set Anya up for her to find it.
ME: “Of course I love them in a different way, but I’m just as fond of them as I am of you because of all you’ve shared with me. I care about them too, babe. I don’t want them to get hurt. They’re innocent here.”
ANYA: “I love you so much. Dying inside.”
ME: “Please don’t be sad, babe. I love you very much too.”
ANYA: “I guess never say never. That’s all I have to hang on to. It’s my hope.”
When she texted me “never say never”, I smiled and breathed a little easier to know she refused to give up regardless of what was on its way to me.
ME: “It’s my hope too. I will always love you, anyway.”
ANYA: “Thank you for loving me. Goodnight. I love you.”
ME: “Be safe and get some rest babe. Goodnight. I love you too.”
For all those times I had gotten down on her love, I now got down on myself. How could my past low self-esteem issues have allowed me to question her intentions and love for me for even one day? Even at our most hopeless hour, as tears raced down her cheeks against time, she found “never say never” within her for me and for us; the hope I needed to fight for her, and I refused to let the last fourteen months just go to waste for either of us. We had come too far and opened up so much that no one knew us better than we knew each other, to just give up. Even in my most hopeless of moments, I never quit anything in my life, and I refused to quit life unless the universe wrested control away from me.
I laid in my bed and imagined a sun glistened guillotine blade above me as I waited for my unexpected fate to arrive the following day. Emotionally exhausted as the stress of my mental job in the form of an additional work pile exacted its toll on me, I found a stray Vicodin pill on my night stand. In the silence of my candlelit room, I waited forty minutes until the pill took some of the emptiness I felt away. But all the world’s opiate supply could never stop the arrival of Katie’s letter. Instead of sending me her heart on Valentine’s Day, she instead decided to send me a heartbreak under seal. How could this letter possibly break my heart? A heart that’s already broken?
I then rose from my bed of needles and went straight for the bathroom mirror. I looked into the mirror and imagined it was her beautiful face before me, instead of my own. And even as impossible it was to ignore the huge gap in contrast, I released all that writhed within me to fight for her, to resolve the burden of her indecision. Things I always wanted to tell her face to face rather than over an electronic line that only kept us apart.
“I think you need to understand some things.” I spoke through my heart to an audience of one. “You have to realize it’s not me that is making you run out of the house nor is it your duties of being a mother; it’s your marriage and the unhappiness with your life. You feel you’re not there for your kids not because of me, but because of your marriage and your unhappiness with it. I don’t understand how staying will make that any better. I also would like for you to not only look at the way you feel about your kids today, but more so how you will feel tomorrow, when they are all moved out of the house, and it’s just you and the man you no longer love. You’re teaching them your marriage is normal when it’s not, and you’re not teaching your kids about foundation of any marriage; the meaning of love. Katie is never going to tell you a guy is mistreating her or disrespecting her because she wants you to like him, when in actuality the man you trust to take care of her is a jerk. Would you want Katie to marry a man like your husband and end up being as unhappy as you one day? Is that what you want for her? Every kid that goes through a divorce are always going to feel they are the cause. It’s a normal feeling they will have. Duping your kids into believing everything is fine when it really isn’t, is not right, Anya. It’s like you’re playing a mind game with them, and they might resent you for it if you ever decide to leave, even later. When you brought up the scenario with you and my mother, that’s the problem with your thinking right there, and I’ve discussed this with you several times. It’s not me versus the kids. It’s me and the kids. You aren’t picking me over them in any way shape or form. You’re choosing a better life for yourself and for them. You’re choosing to be a better person. You’re choosing to be a better mother. Don’t think you’re not hurting them by staying and living a lie. If you’re not happy, your unhappiness will be reflected upon them, and I can’t ever see you being happy in your marriage after all we’ve shared. It’s not me versus your husband. I won that battle well over a year ago. It’s only me versus your marriage. It’s only me versus your unhappiness. I would like you to seriously consider asking him for at least a trial separation to see how your kids respond to it. This would force him to take an active part in the lives of his children, too, and to not just show up for games and competitions. Be true to yourself, babe. Don’t choose to live a lie. It’s your marriage to this man that leaves you burdened with unhappiness, not me. Please don’t do this to us.”
My shoulders then slumped as I stared at into empty bathroom sink, a reflection of myself from the inside as I emptied my night’s dinner into it.
Although I had a good idea, I still didn’t know what to expect when my letter arrived. I struggled to understand how she assessed that her happiness was the problem. After all she endured from her husband’s selfish acts of unfaithfulness, she also had all the evidence in the world through both myself and Lance, to know what he did was not only incomprehensible, but tragic if she felt her general happiness in life should never be. A wife’s greatest need in any marriage, was the safety provided to her by her husband, so how could she ever be judged for desiring a true sense of safety? To always know she was truly loved and cared for? Our relationship wasn’t just about her happiness, it was about a basic human need in any marriage. The need to feel loved. The need to feel appreciated. The need to feel safe. The need to feel she was never alone. Jackson should have been willing to lose an arm ten years ago, and not when he found out she was in a relationship with me. The man cheated on his wife and family when he was forty years of age. Not at a time when he was still trying to figure himself out because he got married at a young age. To date a woman who was still a teenager, while he was in his thirties, told me manipulation was at the forefront of any relationship he wanted with her. He could easily pull the wool over her eyes because of his experience, and one could more easily tell he still attempted the tugs on heartstrings to this very day. The “loss of an arm” was said due to an unexpected event; the realization she didn’t need his love because she found a true one. And he would always hate me for shining the light directly on my soul so she could find her way to me. I knew this one universal truth about bastards like Jackson; these blood thirsty tigers never changed their stripes for anyone, and eventually, once he removed me from the picture, or laid the guilt heavily enough for Anya to do it herself, he would cheat again. And if Anya wanted to truly protect her kids, it made no sense to wait for that to happen. Jackson could attempt to kiss his wife passionately. Kiss her on the cheek. Hold her hand around the kids. Make love to her every night, but this simple truth was undeniable, the only person Jackson truly loved was himself, and as long as she had me in her life, he couldn’t fool anyone anymore, even the people he wanted to fool the most, his children. I knew what love meant. I knew all it stood for. Most of all, I knew the greatest, most difficult truth of all about love; it never cheated because it never dared to jeopardize its loss.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Was cheating the new normal now in marriages? Was that why Anya was willing to live with it before she met me? Both your unconscious and subconscious minds, always needed to be in alignment with your conscious mind when such decisions are made. If you felt compelled to approach another man in a bar, and keep up a conversation about love for a minute, let alone two hours, you were never truly willing to stay married or you found a miracle in someone. Anya may have not been consciously looking, but her subconscious and unconscious mind were on the prowl, and her initiation with me on that beautiful evening, if her prior relationship with Lance didn’t offer enough proof of her unhappiness with her willingness to stay, should have been all the evidence in the world she needed to realize she wasn’t willing to accept anything Jackson did. The need to feel safety from someone who gave her true love, and all the other things she ever trusted her husband to give her, could never be wrong in any situation. Our society had no right to criticize the universe, especially an ignorant one ripe of hypocrisy, in which we were all complicit in and a part of.
On Valentine’s Day, one that painfully fell on a weekend this year, a day when most people who felt love received it, I could only wait on heartbreak to find me as Anya sent me a text early that Saturday morning.
ANYA: “Ur still my only Valentine. I love you.”
Her text brought a smile to my face, as it brought with it a glimmer of hope. That she meant “never say never” when she told me the prior evening.
ME: “I love you. How r u?”
ANYA: “Passed out early from drinking and exhaustion but got up super early and couldn’t go back to sleep. Can’t imagine life without you.”
Her “can’t imagine life without you” rippled throughout my entire body as my hand began to tremble, as I typed a response to her hopelessness.
ME: “You must be ok with it.”
I hated to respond the way I did. I knew she hurt too, but she was at the wheel of our pain.
ANYA: “Ouch.”
I didn’t mean to hurt her more than she already hurt, but I expected a response from her in line with her “never say never” text from last night. When she didn’t, from my perspective, she seemed fine with her decision, but the problem was, after all we’ve shared, I simply wasn’t fine with it. A love like this didn’t come our way, everyday.
ME: “It’s ok though because you’re blinded by fear. So, you diagnose me as the problem but not the marriage.”
ANYA: “I never said u were the problem.”
ME: “I know, but you’re doing the things you’re doing b/c of your marriage and your unhappiness with your life. By letting me go you’re in essence saying “Landyn is the problem”. You’re refusing chemo and now plan to fight cancer with more cancer. You’re just scared, babe. It’s normal. I don’t want to imagine life without you because I can’t.”
ANYA: “I’m letting go for u.”
I knew I had to be careful here because I was wrong about this one time before, but if that was true, how come I didn’t feel that way? If anything she did involved my feelings, shouldn’t I be made to understand she is letting me go for me? I couldn’t deny I felt differently, that she was letting me go because she didn’t want to face anything. What she now did for me, did nothing but break my heart. As hard as this was to accept, I also didn’t want to cross the “being a mother” line. I had to respect Anya had a daughter she loved dearly, and I didn’t want to lose focus and argue with her about something a great mother should do. Her love and worry for Katie right now, had to come into play before I could mention how much this hurt me.
ME: “I know. Let me read the letter first babe.”
ANYA: “I love you.”
ME: “I love you too.”
ANYA: “I miss u. I miss us.”
ME: “We were made for each other.”
ANYA: “I know.”
Like the military parent who awaited word about their son and daughter from overseas, I waited for fate and destiny to arrive, but in a Fed Ex envelope. I still didn’t have further clarity, or the clairvoyance enough, to know how I’d react when I read it as I still wondered all it contained, and her reasons why. I wanted to see if this was truly about letting me go for me by itself, but again, her relationship with Katie was also important to me; it had to be. I found it to be a a selfish act on my part if I didn’t factor that in to the equation, even though Anya always led me to believe, when she wrote out her pros and cons list months ago, that all she needed was my love to leave. Everything else that followed, caught me by complete surprise.
At around four that afternoon., the front desk called me about a package I needed to sign for. With a great deal of reluctance, I ventured to the apartment complex’s office and recalled all the times Anya greeted me at the door, and not a Fed-Ex delivery person. After I signed for the envelope, I walked back with it in my hand to my apartment, in complete acknowledgement, it was usually Anya’s hand in mine. Even as I imagined the good times we shared when we held hands back to my place, with the great anticipation and wonder of a child, but these thoughts did little to soften the blow to come. When I got inside my apartment, I sat down in my recliner and immediately tore apart the envelope, as a swath of nervousness came over me. Before I read, as I ignored the hunger pains from not being able to keep anything down since she told me the news that prompted the letter I know held, I couldn’t help but think about how lonely my Saturday nights usually were and how great the loneliness would feel tonight, on Valentine’s Day, a night she would probably be out in. And my heart started to break even before I started to read the envelope’s contents.
Anya’s letter to me was the first one I saw, so I decided it would also be the first one I read.
Dearest Landyn,
I am trembling as I write this letter to you. I’ve been crying for hours and finally built up the strength to write you. I found a letter on Katie’s computer today. Please read it and you will understand. I had no idea what Katie was going through last year. I blame myself for not being there for her emotionally. I blame myself for not coaching her. Now I know my daughter would blame herself if I were to leave no matter what I tell her. I can’t live with that. This is a letter of a 13 year old girl, my girl. I’ve never felt so much pain and guilt. I’ve decided for Katie and Andrew I have to stay. I’m giving up my life today for them. I feel like I just took my life. I know you won’t understand and you never will. Please don’t hate me. I don’t feel alive anymore. I’m numb. My eyes are so swollen I can hardly see my writing. Please know that I fell in love with you and I love you with all my heart. I will always love you.
As my best friend, I’m asking you to do something for me. Please help me and let me go. I love you and I can’t quit you so I’m asking you to quit me. Please make me go and leave you alone. I need you to be strong for me. I’m going to want to talk to you and see you. I beg you to please stop me when I reach for you. I still don’t know what is to become of my future. I can’t promise because I simply don’t know. Since I can’t promise, I have to go. I have to let you go and find your future. I want you to find your happiness and love again even if it’s without me. I will be left behind to never have that again, but if you can find that again I’d be happy. Landyn, I love you. I have to do this for my kids. I’ve always been honest with you. I never meant to hurt you.
Here are some promises for you:
I promise I love you.
I promise I always will.
I promise to take care of myself.
I promise to be the best mom.
I promise to call you if I leave.
I promise to understand if you find someone new.
I promise to be your best friend even if just by phone.
I love you forever, Landyn.
Anya
I put down her letter and felt as numb as she did. As much as I tried, I could not fully understand her letter at all as it was laden with contradictions. “read the letter and you will understand” versus “I know you won’t understand and you never will.”. Not one time did she mention she was letting me go for me, but for her. In fact, she asked me to quit her, because she couldn’t quit me. I wanted to respect everything she wrote to me, but I lost faith in why she sent it to me. A part of me knew this was real, but another part of me knew she got close to me because she knew this would play out this way one day, and she asked me to fight for her to prevent this kind of letter being written. I would have rather she written me to tell me she is going to work on things with Jackson because a letter like this would make more sense to me. I then decided to read Katie’s letter next, which wasn’t really a letter after all, but rather an essay she wrote for class. It then made more sense why Anya felt compelled to end us; because Katie gave her essay to her teacher and classmates, a signal that threatened to end the façade she worked on for years.
Katie’s essay was titled “My Life” as it chronicled her life over the last two years. The theme of her essay was “change is necessary for growth”, and it astonished me that a girl just thirteen years of age carried wisdom beyond her years, and the ability to provide advice to someone well beyond her age who could really use it. When she wrote she had been “a dancer her whole life”, I smiled, because she was only thirteen, but at that age, thirteen years seemed like a lifetime. She talked about things Anya had shared with me about her life, how she was handpicked for a prestigious ballet program and how she spent over twenty hours a week at the dance studio for six months during the school year. She then went on to say her parents and teachers told her the seventh grade was “an important year to do well academically” if she wanted to get into a “selective high school program”. She then went on to write how her parents had strong feelings toward the magnet program, the one in the bad part of town, and if she got anything less than an ‘A’ on a report card, she would be “in for it” when she got home. I then recalled how Anya gave me the impression the choice of high school was up to Katie, but through her essay, it seemed Katie really had no choice at all. If she had a missing assignment, her parents would not let her do anything on the weekend, and again I smiled because little did Katie know, its what good parents did. She then went on to talk about the pressure she felt from her parents, and I had to laugh when Anya complained whenever I pressured her by wanting her to be with me, as I learned both instances of pressure could only come from a place of great love.
She further noted she became jealous of her friends who seemed destined to go to the school she wanted to go to because it seemed they had easier lives, as she pointed out they didn’t have to get perfect grades, undergo secret ballet training, disciplinary parents and Bat Mitzvah preparation, and then try to find a balance in it all. As I read this, I actually felt bad for both Anya and Jackson simply because Katie was too young to see what her parents already knew about the world that awaited Katie. They just wanted her to be successful in life and to never struggle as it became more difficult, but as I read further, what I always feared for Katie came to fruition; that all this pressure heaped on a fragile thirteen-year-old, caused her to break. She felt like she had no say in what she could and couldn’t do, and I even saw this parallel in Anya who experienced it through our love, as I struggled with the decisions she made in the midst of our very serious relationship.
Katie felt her future had already been mapped out for her, but again, I felt this was a result of Anya and Jackson being good parents, but they also had to come to grips with was the reality that Katie was entitled to a voice in the matter too. After all, when they were both dead and gone, it was her life to live. She then revealed her mental breakdown, and it broke my heart to read of her struggle as she detailed her own sabotage to derail her parent’s plans for her along with her needed grades. When I read “I know this isn’t what life is supposed to feel like”, my heart pained even more, because she was so right as I felt the problems in the marriage lent to this added pressure to be perfect, as they tried to hide their own imperfections from her. She said she failed almost every test and even forged her parent’s signatures on everything, then cheated and lied to them. Her grades fell from A’s to C’s and then to D’s as she claimed she started to hang with a “wrong crowd”. As I read this part, it didn’t seem like Anya wasn’t there for Katie at all, the reason why Anya felt guilt about this, but rather the opposite. Her parents were there for Katie, but Katie lied to them, so how would Anya know? I found it ironic how at the same time, Anya lied to her daughter about her own struggles and unhappiness as Katie’s problems seem to be a microcosm of her own mother’s. All I could think about as I read this was Katie’s recurring theme of “change being necessary for growth”, and it only drove the point further home why Anya didn’t heed her daughter’s own message, and couldn’t change her marriage so she too could grow.
Katie went on in further detail about how she made the decision to care more about a social life than dance/ballet and school. In response, Anya started to take some privileges away from her, like any good parent would do. She even said everyday she would yell and fight with her parents about what she was becoming, and again my heart broke, but for Anya, who I knew more than anyone how much she loved her daughter. My heart broke also broke again for Katie who tried to break away from the mold casted for her to figure out who she really was, and what she really wanted in life. She then wrote something that really took me aback; that her parents were ashamed to talk to Katie’s grandparents and relatives about her, as I saw the power of culture come into play, and how academic performance was such a source of pride. As I read further, I began to understand a little better what Anya faced, as I’m sure they judged Anya’s skills as a mother based on how well Katie and Andrew did academically, a sign of discipline. Katie then claimed adults would talk about her and told how word got back to her mom that they didn’t realize she was such a “bad kid”. Katie further explained how this hurt her mom who always tried to build a good family name. I could see how this affected Anya, and how it brought to light what she faced for me, as I needed to know this to understand her struggles with me. I took a step back to think about the façade as I felt if Anya cared so much about the “family name” did she truly have any plans to ever leave? I felt bad for Anya about this predicament, but at the same time it upset me because she allowed me to love her so much that now to understand this, is to understand she used me to fill a void in her marriage. I also felt bad for Anya because Katie’s breakdown wasn’t a fair assessment for these parents to question Anya’s parenting skills. If anything, it only should’ve shown how hard she worked as a mother to push Katie be successful in everything she did. Kids were kids, and they did not know what lied ahead of them in this world, but every person, I don’t care who you are, will eventually go through a crisis period at some time in their life, and for adults to say such a thing to Anya about Katie, was very judgmental and unfair to Anya. And the big question was, where was Jackson in all of this? How come he isn’t be questioned? Oh that’s right, he wasn’t around to take the backlash, but always there to receive the credit. Just another inequity in their marriage, just one other things no one knew about but me.
Then Katie revealed something that spoke louder than any of Anya’s “I love you forever” ever could; that her parents would argue over how to handle her and she overheard her mother threaten to divorce. Anya had a way of showing her love without ever showing it, and not once did she tell me she threatened to divorce Jackson in any argument they had. The fact she never went into any detail about it with the man she was in love with shocked me to no end. Not only did she threaten to divorce Jackson, Katie also wrote of the times Anya would leave at night and not come back for a few days because she thought she was so upset with her. She claimed no one knew where she would go, but one thing was clear; Katie blamed herself for what she didn’t know what truly made Anya leave and threaten divorce; her unhappiness with Jackson’s gross disrespect of her heart. It broke me into pieces to read that Katie blamed herself for things she was not responsible for in any way, and for the first time I was truly disgusted with Anya’s parenting, to allow Katie to go to bed at night blaming herself for problems in the marriage. I felt that was Anya’s only mistake as a parent. I couldn’t understand how Anya could let her go to bed at night with such a burden on her mind and believe it gave Katie a sense of safety. After I read this, it made even less sense for Anya to stay now more than ever before. And if Anya was capable of doing so, she had to love Jackson in a way that she couldn’t have meant any of the promises she made to me in her letter.
At the end of her essay, Katie went on to state her regrets and how awful she felt for the turmoil she believed caused her parents to argue. She then felt like a “lonely person” because all of her friends chose not to associate with her, and that made me even more sad for Katie. She then reiterated how change was necessary for growth and how it only created additional change; I couldn’t have agreed with her more. She then made changes in her life to right the wrongs as she tried to repair the broken friendships around her. She compared her struggles to a vaccination, how sometimes you have to put the bad bacteria in the body to build up an immunity to it so your body could get strong enough to fight it off. She acknowledged she had to make decisions on her own, in order to know the difference between right and wrong as she felt she gained wisdom to prevent something like this happening to her ever again. Another thing she wrote in closing, that I found deeply insightful was once you let others influence you and make decisions for you, you will lose more of yourself each day as this was something, I tried to get through to Anya each day as well.
Although Katie wasn’t my daughter, and she never could be even as a future step daughter, I cared for her as if she was my own. I’m sure this essay killed Anya to read, and her reaction to it was entirely justified. I couldn’t imagine the horror Anya must have felt when this was turned over to the school’s teacher as it exposed her greatest fears as a parent. Anya had to also understand it hurt me deeply to read on a great level as well because I cared for them both. Little did I realize when I first met Anya, that my decision to date her, even when Anya told me all she had to do was fall in love with me for her to leave, would affect Katie and Andrew’s life as well. Everything I believed about Anya’s marriage through the unhappiness she showed me every single day for the last fourteen plus months; Every reason I felt this marriage was wrong for both Anya and her children, Katie turned my theories to facts with keystrokes. Katie said it herself and even furthered Anya’s cause when she wrote, “change was necessary for growth”. Why couldn’t Anya incorporate this, Katie’s own thoughts and words, to explain to both Katie and Andrew her reasons for separating from Jackson? If Andrew looked up to Katie, certainly Katie could help him out with his reservations upon hearing their mother’s explanation. This entire essay was a testament to how the marriage affected her children. How through her unhappiness and her own lies, Anya provided a false sense of safety and ultimately, the guilt she felt after she read her letter that she wasn’t there for Katie. I felt she overreacted to Katie’s manifesto, and with it being an essay, and not an actual letter, Anya feared the façade of her marriage was on life support in the face of outsiders as she tried desperately to keep it alive with the false belief it protected her kids. But how else would a mother react to this?
I wanted to respect Anya’s wishes. In fact, I needed to if we had any chance after this. It didn’t mean I gave up on us, but if this is what she wanted, then what could I do? I didn’t want Anya to carry guilt in her heart about Katie. Even though I believed this would have happened regardless of our relationship, but in consideration of the Korean culture she attempted to please as well, Anya had a lot of undue pressure. most parents didn’t have heaped on them, to keep her kids academically successful. I knew one day though, Anya’s unhappiness with her marriage would be reflected upon her children, and Katie’s breakdown came as no surprise. This essay gave me even more ammunition than ever for Anya to leave her marriage as this illustrated the reality of her situation, and even more so, the truth. In the same breath, I felt Anya’s allegiance to her culture played a huge role in her staying with an abusive husband, but again, this was something she should have made me aware of in the beginning of our relationship. Now, I found this difficult to understand even as much as I wanted to because I truly loved her. The tragedy of this all, it seemed for my own heart’s sake, was Anya thought every man out there loved just like her husband did, and she couldn’t believe I was a man of my word, and nothing even close to him.
On that one beautiful evening at Sonomas, when we were alone in our “office”, when she looked up to me with both the greatest fear and love in her eyes, and asked me if I would fight for her, I never imagined when I said “yes” that I would be fighting with her, and not for her. But the things she decided to omit from me in the beginning, now led me to a place where I had to fight, but for my own life. If we didn’t make it, after all of this. I would never trust in love again. I would never trust the words “I love you” from anyone, even with “forever” attached, if this did not work out. I was now almost forty years old, not twenty one years old. All the lessons love could teach me were now finished. I initially walked away from Anya because I didn’t need any more lessons, especially one like this. I trusted her to know what “I love you” meant, and to leave if she fell in love with me like she promised, and not continue to lie to her children, especially after she told me another man left her because of them. After I read Anya’s letter and Katie’s essay, I reached out to Anya to provide her with support and comfort, regardless how broken I felt.
ME: “I could never in a million years ever hate you. Katie’s essay was brilliantly written. I read it a few times. I would like some time to put together my thoughts. I’m not mad at all. After I tell you how I feel, I will let you go not because I want to, but because it’s what you asked of me.”
ANYA: “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m thankful and relieved you don’t hate me. I don’t want you to let me go but I feel that is the right thing right now. I’m a mess.”
ME: “I understand, babe.”
I really needed some time for myself to absorb it all. My thoughts and feelings were a bit raw and I didn’t want to fuck this up, and also be considerate of how much this rattled her. Even though I wasn’t a mother, and not in the same boat, I loved her to much not to respect her feelings whether I agreed with them entirely or not. At this particular moment, to remain mum on my own thoughts and feelings about her decision was the best thing to do right now as well.
ANYA: “Now you know Katie better than any other man. She breaks my heart.”
For her to admit I knew Katie better than any other man, even more than her own father, was a significant statement and only added to my list of reasons for her to leave Jackson. I felt it when she invited me to her recital, and I felt it even more so at this moment.
ME: “I’m not even her parent, but she makes me proud and breaks my heart all at the same time too. Please don’t beat yourself up, babe, she would have experienced this in her life at some time and you would have never known. In actuality though, you did know because she mentioned you punished her for poor grades and missed assignments. I think it’s better she went through this now than later.
ANYA: “I agree.”
ME: “Without you even knowing it, you made her a stronger person by pushing her to the limits. If that’s not being a good parent, then I don’t know what is.”
I wanted to be so supportive of Anya’s decision, but I just couldn’t be completely sold on Katie’s “letter” because of all I’ve endured for her happiness. I felt Anya did know about these things because her grades slipped, but not in the detail Katie wrote of. There was this huge part of me that felt this was more about her reputation and upholding an image especially when Katie mentioned how Anya always cared about the “family name” and that terrified me in so many ways. For her to work so hard to keep the façade alive after all we’ve shared, it was hard for me not to feel it disrespected my heart, all of my time and the sacrifices I made for her. I had the chance to walk away and stay away, not be here in the middle of this, and it seemed like I wasn’t even a part of her life at all if she could dismiss me through the mail. At the same time, as violated and somewhat betrayed as I felt, I also understood. If that made any sense at all, but that’s what love in this kind of situation did. It just seemed like the façade of her marriage was more important than her love for me. I wanted to focus on the part of the essay when Katie revealed that she overheard Anya threaten Jackson with divorce, as that was the strongest statement of her love for me. That she felt that strong enough for us to make that threat, but if I was that much of a real threat, and if she truly loved me, respected all I stood for, and truly believed in love, this letter and Katie’s essay would have never been sent to me, let alone on Valentine’s Day of all days.
ANYA: “I’m so sorry. My heart is so broken. I miss u so much.”
As much as I struggled. As much as this pained me to no end. Her pain always trumped my own as it always made me see things through her eyes. I didn’t have to put on an act for an audience of one, but I had to “man up” and support her act though because it would only worry Katie and Andrew as I couldn’t even imagine the difficulty.
ME: “I’m hurting for you more than I’m hurting for myself. I miss u too.”
ANYA: “That’s because you’re a noble man.”
ME: “I’m trying. It’s hard to be noble when you’re all I have. I love you so much, you just don’t know.”
ANYA: “I do know. I love you that much too.”
And with that last text from her, it marked the last time I heard from her on this Valentine’s Day in the year two thousand nine. I tried not to think too negatively as she said “for right now” but I feared she saw this as an opportunity to get over me completely. Another chance to breathe new life into the façade and live a lie forever for the sake of a culture she always supported without my knowledge of its being.
As much as I didn’t agree with her sudden decision to stay, I also loved her. I wanted her to know I supported her, even as I felt misled. Even as she sought ways not to be with me, and not for ways to be with me. I began to realize this relationship was entirely on her terms, and mine were only considered with a goodbye. Anya’s love now left me crippled and paralyzed, unable to move away from the mental wheelchair I used to navigate through our relationship’s ups and downs. My mind mercilessly told me a different story from the one my heart wanted to believe, but I wanted more than anything to respect Anya’s right to be a mother. My love for Anya couldn’t compete against a mother’s love for her children, but why did she put me in the position to ever feel this way? Her methodical parting from me I began to notice through her friends, how Debbie, and most notably, Carolyn seemed to vanish, as they never said “hi” to me anymore whenever Anya texted me in their presence. It only led me to wonder if she told them we were broken up, or led them to believe we no longer saw each other. If Anya cared so much about the “family name”, I could only imagine how much of the truth was now kept from me. An horrific truth so real, that she felt would really crush me if I knew. I didn’t want the protective nurturing love she gave to her children. I already had a mother’s love. I only wanted the love that was brave enough to destroy me. A love brave enough to be honest even if it made her look bad. Why didn’t I deserve the truth? Wouldn’t she deserve and want the truth from me? If she truly wanted me to let her go, why not give me something that would accomplish that goal?
As she jettisoned me into a vortex of emotions, I felt so unstable, it seemed I lost control of even my thoughts. I could think positively one moment then think about three other things that brought me back on the road of negativity. If Katie’s “letter” tore her heart into a million pieces, what did she think her letter to me, did to mine? The thing that troubled me the most was she never acknowledged any responsibility for this, even after she told me she never meant to hurt me. As if, in her mind, I should have expected this, and known better. For me to not know better though, would also for me not to put any trust in her. In her eyes, this was something I should just say “it is what it is” and then just retreat back to the life I had before I met her, as if it still existed. It was as if she kindly tipped me over from my wheelchair and onto the floor, and then asked me to understand why it was done. Was that an act of love? Anya’s reaction to Katie’s “letter” was something I would expect from Jackson in his lust inspired affairs, and not from Anya, but then again was I being unfair to a mother’s way of thinking?
When the sun rose, I could not distinguish the night from the day as I felt I woke up into a nightmare, a state I trusted Anya’s love to never leave me in as I could not extricate myself from bed, caught in a complete state of paralysis. How could she break my heart in any way after I went all in to repair hers in every way I could? Even a heart I wasn’t responsible for breaking? Why would she punish the man who loved her, who made her a better person, than the man who truly broke her heart in a million pieces? Why did I seem to suffer an even worse fate than Jackson?
I reached for a Vicodin I didn’t know I had, at ten that morning to deal with the emotional anguish I felt as I couldn’t find the strength to face the day. When I acknowledged today was a Sunday, it was the only thankfulness I could muster. What made matters worse, is that Valentine’s Day fell on a Saturday as I imagined what took place last night in the midst of her silence, if the family name meant so much to her. An hour later, my cell phone’s light began to blink, and although I was relieved to hear from her, I had too much negativity within to communicate at all.
ANYA: “I’m here if u want to talk.”
ME: “Maybe later. Hurting too much.”
ANYA: “Ok baby. I’m so sorry from the bottom of my heart. I’m available till about 1;30 pm then my kids come home. I miss you.”
I didn’t want my negative emotions to take over. I didn’t want this to come out wrong, but it overwhelmed me. I didn’t feel she missed me at all. I didn’t believe she was truly sorry either as I felt a person who truly loved me wouldn’t be so quick to give up, and would find ways to be with me. To not snoop around her daughter’s bedroom to find another reason to live a lie. Somewhere down the line, I became Anya’s backup plan, and not her reason to choose happiness and an honest life. I wanted to be her safety net, just not for that sole purpose. She could text “I miss you” all she wanted to, but to feel so much fear to turn a blind eye towards how the façade of her marriage contributed to Katie’s breakdown, made no sense to me if Anya truly loved me she should have used it for a springboard to divorce, and not the reason to stay. With the pain too great, and the relentless torturous wonder of a Saturday Valentine’s day night with a man who she built the family name beside, I was besides myself and unable to hold back about Katie’s “letter” and Anya’s subsequent decision.
ME: “You should feel like you weren’t there for Katie because of your marriage and not because of your love for me. If you can’t recognize that much, I don’t know if I can trust in what you tell me. I believe you miss me but not for the same reasons I miss you, or how I would want you to miss me. What you don’t understand about the way I feel is that there is another man in your life. You’re staying for him too. What you’re saying is I accept his love and affection towards me. If he falls ill, I want to take care of him. That’s how I see things. If this was just for the kids, I would have no hurt in my heart. I’m aware it’s not me versus him. I understand that. I feel this way because I would not feel any of the hurt I feel right now if you never told me he cheated on you or if you didn’t paint a bad picture of him to me, then I could handle your decision without feeling the way I do.”
ANYA: “Ok baby. I’m just going to silently listen. There’s nothing I can say right now to stop the bleeding for both of us. Nothing I could say will convince you.”
She wanted to talk to me, but that’s all she could say to me. That there was nothing she could say that would convince me.
ME: “I think you’re right.”
ANYA: “I beg for your forgiveness. I know you don’t want to hear this but I’m not going to stop saying that I love you. I will say it till I die b/c I do.”
ME: “Forgive you for what?”
ANYA: “That I’m staying for the kids. I was so crazy last night. I had thoughts of running away last night but my kids came in and gave me Vday cards they made.”
As much pain consumed me, the last thing I wanted her to have were thoughts of running away. I took no pride or pleasure in them. Why did she feel the need to run away from everyone instead of facing her truth? I knew it wasn’t easy to do, but she had someone there for her through it all, and most women in her situation didn’t even have that. Why would she beg forgiveness from me for? For being a loving and caring mother? My problem was with her staying with and for Jackson, not for her children, although I felt the marriage hurt them more than it helped them. I didn’t want Katie and Andrew to hate her as well, and I struggled with that as much as she did. I just felt she had great excuses to leave, more valid ones than she had to stay, and if she truly loved me, wouldn’t she choose to listen to the valid ones she had? I felt after fourteen plus months together, the decision should have been easier to make, not harder.
ANYA: “Well it doesn’t matter what I say at this point. I miss u every second and I will continue to miss you every second and will never leave me. Sorry.”
ME: “You don’t have to beg for my forgiveness. Please forgive me sore feeling this way. I feel the same way about you. It’s because you’re all I know, you’re my true love, and I love you.”
ANYA: “I know babe.”
ME: “I can’t let go of the only love I ever want to know. I’ll try to be noble about it all but I’m dying inside. I will love you forever. I meant it the very first day I said it.”
ANYA: “I’m here. I love you to death.”
ME: “I love you to death too. That’s what makes this so hard. I can’t imagine a day without you.”
ANYA: “It makes me cry a lot. I miss you.”
And just like that, those tears, replaced the pain I felt inside with hers as I felt awful about what I texted her.
ME: “Please don’t cry, babe. I’m not there to dry your eyes and hold you. I love you.”
ANYA: “I love you too. Makes me sad to think that one day you will stop writing about me. Makes me cry.”
ME: “I can’t imagine there ever coming a day I wouldn’t write about you. You’re underestimating how much you mean to me. How important you are to my being. The very first day you walked into my life, you became my life and that’s something you never stop writing about. And it really wouldn’t matter if I stopped or not because you’ll always be in my heart. Sorry.”
ANYA: “Can’t stop crying. I’m so sad.”
ME: “Please don’t cry. You never know. I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
ANYA: “I just want to be in your arms right now. Can’t stop crying.”
ME: “Sweetheart, you know I want that too. You know that without a doubt. Please don’t cry.”
ANYA: “I’m just So sad.”
At this very moment, my heart broke for a girl who broke mine, and if this wasn’t the epitome of love, then I didn’t know what was.
ME: “I don’t think this rain outside today is helping either of us with this. You made me fall in love with the rain.”
ANYA: “You made me fell in love with life again except don’t feel so alive right now.”
ME: “I’m just happy I’ve been able to return the favor.”
The minute I knew tears fell from Anya’s eyes, like the rain fell from the clouds just outside to meet my bedroom window, my concern shifted from me to Anya. I no longer cared about my own broken heart, or how many times she broke it, or what she did to me, or vice versa. Love never kept score, and neither did mine for her. I realized through her sadness, she did this against her own good conscience. She did this to please others instead of herself; something she did her entire life. I was in her life simply because she mattered too and her life to me was just as important as anyone else’s. Her happiness mattered just as much as the happiness of her children did, and her current state of sadness spoke brazenly to that truth. A truth my love for her could not deny. I always looked for the good in people, and gave the people I loved, especially those who allowed me to feel love, the benefit of the doubt because I wanted to believe in not only her love, but in love. I then started to see when she threatened to divorce Jackson, without a care even around her kids she loved so dearly, that was the real Anya. The one she only gave me the key to know, and she did it for reasons like Katie’s essay that threatened to destroy her happiness. She gave me the key to her happiness and I planned to continue to step on the gas when I had to. And if I hadn’t broken down, and revealed my thoughts to her, I’d never know how much this killed her as well.
When Anya texted me later on to end our emotional day, I wanted her to know how I truly felt about all of this because I knew I could never love another human being more than I loved her.
ANYA: “Goodnight my dearest Landyn. I love you.”
ME: “I don’t care about my pain as much as I care about yours. I love you forever.”
ANYA: “That’s because you’re noble. I love you forever.”
My nobility and our love, however, was now up for misinterpretation.