December 23, 2014

Dear Reader; I hope this book finds its way to hands that will turn its pages. This is as close as anyone will ever be to truly know that girl that lives in the shadows of me. People I work with say I’m positive. That I’m never in a bad mood. How wrong they are. Of all the people in my life, it is you that will know me best. That I am not the girl everyone sees. I’m negative, I’m hateful, I’m judgemental, frightened. I am sad. I am alone. I’m in love with a man that does not love me and that I will never have. My friend takes advantage of me. I spend more than I should and this addiction has lead to financial ruin. If I am honest with myself, I will never see the publication of this book. It will fizzle, smoulder and die, just like I will. Never seeing light, never being read. I will never be known. Every day the idea of a swift, peaceful way out becomes more tempting and I ask myself. Why stay? I’ve cried out for help, from Sam, from Bri, from Ben even. From Twitter. No one cares. Bri gets angry and tells me how stupid I am for considering it. Sam doesn’t take me seriously and I’m sure Ben couldn’t care less. At least I’ll finally be out of his life, something I’m sure he’s wanted for some time now. I wouldn’t be here for people to use, to walk around, to support and clean up after. No more bills, no more heartache, no more pain. So begs the question: What if this letter is my last? If after I set my pen down, the next thing in my hand is a knife? I would tell my mother that this wasn’t avoidable. There’s nothing more you could have done, there’s nothing you could have known or said. You are an amazing mom, you did so much for me and I couldn’t, wouldn’t ask you for more. You deserve a life free of worry and dependency. I am 31 years old, you should be done taking care of me! You deserve a better daughter. I would tell Sam that while she was there when I needed a place to stay, I feel like she might not actually be the friend she thinks she is. You’re too busy being what you think is a good friend and tallying up all the reasons you’re a “Good Christian” to actually be there for someone else emotionally. I needed you to build me up, couldn’t you see I was broken? But instead when I told you I was struggling, instead of listening you were building up counter maneuvers or one-upping me. Well? Maybe now I’ll have your attention. When I told you I wanted to look into the Navy you condemned me, saying I couldn’t handle it. When I asked about a second bachelors degree you said no one would hire someone with two separate degrees that it was a terrible idea. When I wanted to go after my masters you invited yourself along. Then you have the nerve to tell me I’m fickle! Why, of course I would be when my “best friend” shoots down every idea I have! So I will tell you this. Stop keeping score. Don’t break people down so far they can’t be built back up. Don’t tell someone you’ve had it worse. Tell me it will get better. Being a friend is more than letting someone move in. It’s listening and contributing positivity into their lives instead of constantly being right. I would tell Dan that if this was a downhill slope than he was the beginning. You took a girl with fire and spirit and you washed it out. I would tell my coworkers at Best Buy that I adore them. Dustin, thank you for making me laugh. I do so little these days. Maggie and MJ thank you for making me feel sane, that I contribute to something. Justin; thank you for raising me from perdition. Thank you for being one of the best bosses I have ever had. Thank you for checking on me, for supporting me, for praising me when I needed it so badly. Thank you for believing in me when I didn't, don't believe in myself. Thank you for taking a risk on a girl that got fired from her last job. AJ; thank you for being tough with me when I need it, and doing it in a way that is somehow still supportive and respectful. Lisa; I can't even with you! You're an amazing person. I have never met anyone as absolutely kind as you in my life. You are a joy every day. You have a fire and a wit that I appreciate so much. You're an angel on Earth. Julian, you are such a beautiful person. Always so positive and smiling with the energy of an ocean wave, reliable and refreshing. Thank you for being a beautiful guy when I really didn't think there were any left. I would tell certain parties at AT&T to go right to hell. You yanked the rug from under me when I had nothing else under my feet. Such a false sense of security and maliciousness. To purposefully put someone at risk to cover their own behind is not only cruel and despicable but dishonest, unethical and disgusting. If there is one group responsible for this it is you, seeing me on the ledge and giving me a push. You killed me. The knife may be in my hand but you are the blade that first drew blood. I would tell Bri she was the light in an otherwise endless night for a while. When I needed a friend you managed to be there from hundreds of miles away. I am so glad I managed to find you. And I would tell Ben… So many things I wish I could tell him that he would believe. Of all the people in my life, you were the one truly capable of reaching me. Only you. I gave you everything I had, when there was nothing left. You are the only one that can reach me in this pit. I am broken. I am beyond repair. I am empty. I am withering in my own body. You have such a light in you that you could reach me in the darkest places, and you did for a time. I was in such despair when you found me. I’ll never know your motivations but what you did for me in six weeks is more than almost anyone ever has in three decades. You gave me the most incredible happiness, so much so that it burst from me and infected those around me. I thought love like this might be dead. That it couldn’t exist outside the lines of stories and poems, that it might have died with all the great writers. But that you haven’t nurtured this feeling and it still exists with such a life of its own tells me it was real. On some level on your side and on every level on mine. As much as I want to believe someone when they say you must have been lying, I can’t believe it. “I love you, all of you, and some day I will show you.” You’re not a cruel person, you wouldn’t have said that if you hadn’t meant it. And that is why I still love you. So if this is my last letter? Make copies of this book. Share it, mail it out. Send it to Ben, to Sam, to Bri. Put it on Facebook or tumblr. If anything, maybe it will show people how their actions truly affect someone. THINK before you act. Wouldn't it be tragic for someone to never know what they meant to you? Maye you could have made a difference but you were too wrapped up in yourself to notice they were struggling? This will not be my last letter. I hope this will be my last letter about wanting out. I hope this will be my last letter about pain, about my heart being broken. I hope this will be the last letter about feeling alone. -- An update -- August 9, 2015 -- You don't need to worry about me. I've battled feeling this way for 20 years and I'm still here. But I challenge you to take a look at your relationships and make sure you're living your life generously. Unselfishly. That you leave more behind than you take. I love you all. If you've made it to this letter, you've truly impacted my life. As I read it back over I notice there are so many more positives than negatives and for that I thank you, should you happen to stumble upon it. The world is such a dark place for someone like me. The people in my life, Mom, Samantha, Jody (this was written before I moved in), Corrie at AT&T who is the ONLY manager that defended me, Ben, Justin, AJ, Lisa, MJ, Maggie, Dustin, Bri... You have no idea the impact you've had on me. For those of you, should you manage to find this, that have the "kick her when she's down" attitude... Shame on you. What if I hadn't had these positive people to bring on an upswing? What if someone else comes across you and DOES write that last letter? How would you deal with knowing you contributed to someone ending their life? Are you prepared for that?

July 23, 2015; I think I'm "Knackered"

So… I don’t know exactly how to explain this. This man I’ve been writing about; full on enamoured on, taken by, fascinated with…. he’s rooted down in my bones. But how do I describe the roller coaster I rode with this guy? How do I describe it? We never dated. He lives in freaking Australia. But if this man is not my ex, I’ve never HAD an ex. It seems fitting, not to call him my boyfriend at any point in this odyssey, but he definitely feels like an ex-boyfriend. But was never the “boyfriend”. He was a sorted affair, nearly. If he had been across the street instead of across the world, I absolutely would have cheated on my husband with him. He’s a beautiful man. Dark hair and eyes, very built and muscular but in an understated way. Looks damn good in a suit… And the thing is, he looks absolutely ordinary. Absolutely. He could be any guy on the street. I think this is exactly the physical attraction I felt for him. But my attraction for him (yes, very physical, my Good and Precious Lord, this man is my perfect version of a man…) is to his mind. It’s to his volatility. The lows were pitch black, the deepest abyss I’ve ever experienced. But the highs… The highs were mountain peaks, the Everests of my life. I’ve never been happier than when I felt like I was in his thoughts, when he told me he loved me, when I could hear his voice (this was all back before the days of voxer and viber and what’s app, mind you). I’ve never felt as alive as I did when it was him in the center of my life. When all the songs made me think of him, when all I wanted was him. He is, I’m sure, a fantastic boyfriend. The guy that offers to pick you up at the airport. The guy that sends flowers because he wants to. He’ll sing your favorite song to. Record you an alarm for your phone because…he wanted to? The most thoughtful person I’ve ever known. I can find distractions, I can busy my mind, my heart, and hands with things but they’re all temporary. At the end of every day, my mind wanders back. My heart will never be anyone else’s completely. I want to sit in the same room with him, I want to hug him. I want to see him with my own eyes, match the voice to his face, see his facial expressions. Does he talk with his hands? Do his eyes dance when he laughs the way I imagine? I have so many questions. Ben is a ghost to me sometimes, like he was never real. That someone so incredible cannot truly exist, that it was all make believe. And other times I feel so connected to this person literally on the other side of the world that I feel like he has to be real. That somewhere he’s walking by someone and they just have no idea of the person next to them. I have no doubt that I loved him. That I still love him. That this man is rooted down into my soul and I will destroy myself if I try to rip him out. I’m good at some things. I’m great at a few things. But I was best at being his. I would have done anything he asked. I would have moved across the world for him, if he’d asked. I still would. If he asked me, I’d pack my stuff, sell what I could and move blindly to be with him. It would be a disservice to myself not to. Sometimes, you’re fortunate enough to find someone you’d lay everything down for. But what happens when they don’t feel the same? What happens when they feel that way about someone else? I do not regret anything with Ben. I’m thankful someone could ellicit such powerful feelings from me because before him I thought I’d never found it. And if I have to spend the rest of my life with never talking to him again, I would. Would it hurt like hell? Yes. Would it feel like I’m disconnected from the rest of the world? I’m sure it would. But if I was given a choice: No Ben, ever, he never was, he never has been, all your memories will be wiped away and you’ll never have known he even existed, your feelings for him will be gone, never existed, or: You’ll spend the rest of your life with no contact. No explanation, this man you adore will fall off the face of the earth and you’ll never hear from him again. You’ll wonder at night if he’s ok and will never be given an answer. You’ll live the rest of your life in love, wondering if he’s ok and will never be satisfied: I would take the second one. I will always, first and foremost, be his. If he told me there was never any hope, that he never loved me, that it was never real, I’d still live with no regrets. I know what complete consumption feels like and I … I feel really lucky. I’m lucky I fell head over heels for him. He showed me what it is I want out of life. What I need. What sustains me as a woman. The depth of feeling I’m capable of. And that it’s possible for a truly beautiful man to love me. If nothing else but for a moment. If for no other reason than he loved me for the person I actually am. Because he’s the only person that’s ever seen me as I truly am. My darkest days. My brightest days. Rode some very low lows and took me on very high highs. I love Ben. I always will. He thinks so low of himself and I wish I could convince him of the truth. Yes he’s impulsive at times. He has a volatile personality and sometimes it bites hard. But his passion? His enthusiasm sometimes is tangible. You can feel his excitement, his happiness. It projects out of him like a solar flare, effecting me from thousands of miles away. His thoughtfulness is compelling. He’s mentally strong, like me. From what I know, he seems like the kind of guy that can be sympathetic but knows when to put his foot down. He presents limits, and that’s what I need. I hope he finds what he wants. And I hope the woman he eventually ends up with knows what a fantastic freaking guy she’s got. I hope he finds what makes him happy. I want nothing more in this world than to know he’s happy. Even to my own detriment. Because that’s what loving someone means.

What time is it in Oz?

May 29, 2015 I want to think I’m getting better at this. This managing idea. I’m really good at making people believe I’m ok. Scary good, actually. So good I often convince myself I’m ok. But that’s when the panic attacks come back. That’s when I feel like some black hole has opened up in my chest and it will pull me through this pit little by little. It’s a crushing feeling. From the inside out. Is that even possible? And it’s these nights that I don’t take my antidepressants. Because there are 38 of them right now and that’s 1900 mg and it’s entirely possible I wouldn’t stop with just one. And then I would take the ibuprofen because that’s exactly what it says not to do on the bottle. But don’t worry, 1900 mg is not a lethal dose. I googled it. It is enough to trash my liver, however, but with the way I used to drink that damn things been through enough. If I’m honest with myself, this feeling is rooted into my soul with barbed hooks. I can’t rip it out. It’s there forever. So I look at the clock and I try to remember if it’s daylight savings time in Australia. 13 or 15 hours ahead? Is it 3:38PM or 5:38PM. It’s getting colder there now. My body is tired but my mind is wide awake, half a world away. Isn’t it obvious? I am a lost cause. I tried so hard to get over it, past it, burn the bridge. It’s just not possible. So I welcome the black hole. I scroll through four years of emails, the happy ones, and God were there so many. You made me the happiest girl…. Now it seems I’ve learned the price for such delirious happiness. It was worth it. You were worth it.

April 7, 2015 (barely)

Dear Reader; The date is very subjective you know. Here, in Missouri it’s 2 hours and 12 minutes into the 7th, whereas in Australia it’s 5:12 in the afternoon. People are getting off work, going home to eat or, say maybe work outside. It should be starting to get cooler, while here, it’s getting warmer everyday, the signs of Spring are everywhere. The Southern Hemisphere will start seeing fall and winter while here we basically start a slow rolling boil. I feel like winter. I’m cold, I need another blanket on my bed. Because my heart? It lives in that Southern Hemisphere. It lives on a country road I imagine is a beautiful drive when the trees start to die. Everything I have ever wanted is half a world away. There aren’t enough words in the English launguage to put this feeling into comprehensive expression. It’s sadness, happiness, lament and ballad. At some point I’m sure I’ll get past all this, but four and a half years later I’m still in the Southern Hemisphere. I’m still cold in the summer, watching the fire seasons, translating American time to Australian and marking the time my heart and soul is waking up. I’m just a silly girl that can’t let go. I don’t want to, that’s the troubling part. I want to hold onto this piece of me as Long as I can. It’s all I really have left.

October 16, 2014

Dear Ben; Four years ago you and I began something I realize now will never end for me. A story that will never turn its last page, that will never see its climax. You set the book down on this before I was done reading and I am left alone to wonder at the characters, their story. Maybe they’re both meant for better things. Or maybe neither of us will ever truly find what we’re looking for because on some level, we’re looking for better versions of each other. Maybe I’m being a silly lovesick girl. Maybe I’m being that girl from 2010 that loves the idea of this exotic man from Australia that calls me beautiful and tells me how much I build him up. Maybe I miss the first real spark I felt when someone told me they loved me. Maybe I miss that guy telling me how good I make him feel. I made you happy at one point, right? I know I did, I can feel it in a place that will always belong to you, no matter how many boys enter and exit my life, you will be the man I want. The only man I have ever wanted. I must have given you something or you wouldn’t have given me so much back in return. A man doesn’t spend over a 100 on flowers to send a girl because he feels sorry for her. I know at some point you must have loved me. You made me feel beautiful. You made me feel safe, and wanted, warm and loved the way every woman deserves to feel. And I miss you. I miss you and I am terrified that I will never find another man like you. Who am I kidding? Of course I’ll never find another man like you. You are absolutely unique. You are irreplaceable. You are once in a lifetime you are gone. I love you.

June 23, 2012: “Imperfections”

The valley I’ve been afraid of has surfaced. It’s like the scariest roller coaster ride ever. The dips are in a darkened tunnel and there is no light. I have no way of knowing if it’s a dip or a dive or how far we are falling. My depth of feelings for Ben scares me. I have lost myself in this man and it’s no ones fault but my own. How could I pour so much of myself into this one person? He’s all I want, to a frightening level, but what if I’m not what he wants? Well, at least that side of Ben that fears commitment, doesn’t trust anyone, builds up his walls like Sparta and doesn’t share. This is the same side of him that doesn’t DM me, doesn’t reply to email. But? The man that tells me he loves me. The man that sings to me in voicemails. That sultry voiced angel with his deep chuckle, heart of gold, talent that rivals so many? This deeply playful man I have completely fallen in love with? That guy is worth it. That guy is worth riding out the dip and valleys of this imperfect angel’s ride. I love Ben. Much more than is safe or healthy for me. Is all love this way? All my doubts and fears mount to one question. What if it ends? I am afraid of my reaction if the answer is “It does.” I’m not sure I can survive the kind of drop this ride may end in.

May 8, 2012

Dear Diary; Sometimes I look back and think: My God. I am a loon. How does he even stomach me? Lately I’ve gotten my favorite version of Ben. The kind, sweet, gentle and loving man who makes it all worth it. The distance, the worry, the waiting for Thursday night. He told me once, “I love you. Every part of you.” I just keep smiling. I wonder though. What if he doesn’t like me? What if I’m too big, I’m too fat. I’m not good enough for him. What if he hates me in person? I mean, LOOK at him. He’s perfection…. The list of things I love about this man doesn’t end. His eyes, his lips, his smile, his deep rich voice that I swear I could listen to him read the damn dictionary and I’d just say Yeah babe, let’s do B next! The way he makes me feel, like I’m the only person in the world that could possibly be this happy. How he’s thin but not lanky, somehow the perfect combination of toned and muscle but not obnoxious. That thick dark hair. His laugh. His voice when he says my name, unlike I’ve ever heard it before. How fiercely protective he can be. His jealousy, which is an odd trait to list as a positive, but to me it is. He wants me that much he gets so jealous…. “Reckon”. All of these things, I should feel lucky. But what could I possibly have to offer him? What if I can’t do what he wants? What if he thinks I’m so disgusting he doesn’t want me? What if the week goes by, my birthday passes and… Nothing happens? What if I blow this chance? What if I scare him off before he even gets here? What do I do if this…doesn’t work?

April, 2012

Dear Ben; It remains a difficulty to me that the beginning of my day is the end of yours. But baby, what a way to start it off. Things are amazing. You surprise me every day with how incredibly sweet you are. Maybe it’s because (I hope) you look just as forward to talking to me as I do talking to you. You’re tired and ready for bed and I’m sleepy and not ready to get out of bed yet here you are, my dependable Aussie alarm. What better motivation to wake up than to know its you I get to wake up to? Figuratively. But, something nags at me. The other proverbial shoe. The rug to be pulled out. For the floor to drop from beneath me. Because…let’s face it. That’s what usually happens. And this, this incredible thing? This can’t last forever, can it? Am I enough for you to hold onto? What happens if I run you off? If I’m too eager and I scare you away? Because that what I do… I ruin things. Here I am, both feet in the water, and I’m worried you don’t want to swim.

November, 2013

Dear Future Guy; My my, do you have your work cut out for you. God is molding me into the perfect girl for you. I was, at one time, a silly, lovesick fool of a girl. Sometimes she rears her ugly head but we try to keep her tied up in the back as much as possible. Now I’m stronger, more independent, and I know no man or relationship is perfect. They take work (on both sides, man) and if something seems too easy, you’re probably not doing it right. And now that I have more wisdom? I’ll be better for us both all the while. This isn't to say I know it all. I'm no expert. But here are some things you should know about me going in. Nobody likes buying a car and then realizing, HEY, this doesn't have cruise control... 1) I'm a happy girl. 2) I'm ambitious. 3) I love bright colors. I apologize if at some point I ask to paint something pink or yellow. 4) I love being pampered. I love getting my nails done, my hair cut... But bonus? I do that maybe twice a year at most. 5) I'm a real girl. You may have to tell me no. You may have to kill a spider or a wasp for me. 6) I love sports. I may tell you I hate sports to combat the sheer volume at which YOU love sports, but I love sports. Take me to a baseball game. Buy me a beer and a hotdog. You'll get it back tenfold. 7) I'm very easily disappointed. I am a hope for the best, expect the worst kind of girl. No flowers on Valentine's Day? I HOPE for flowers. I expect that you'll shoot craps on this. Surprise me. 8) Holidays are a big deal. Christmas, my birthday. I'm an only child, I grew up as a Princess. The bar is raised. 9) I'm very easily excited. Leave me a note, a card. Surprise me with a $5 stuffed animal from Wal-Mart. I'm not expensive. I'm not high maintenance. I'm just...romantic. 10) I want only to be adored. I want to feel like the most important thing in your life. Because YOU will be the most important thing in MY life. It's just how I'm wired. These things aren't moving the earth or the stars. It's setting an alarm on your phone to remember it's my birthday. It's NOT being the guy that hates Valentine's Day. In return? I will make a ridiculous spread for you and your friends on Superbowl Sunday. I will cook for you. I enjoy being sexy! I will rarely say no to you, unless you need to hear it. I will nurse your wounds. I will cry with you, and I won't tell anyone. I will be your partner. I only want the same thing. I'm excited to meet you. And by the way, what took you so damn long?

October, 2013

Dear Me at 16, Relish it all. Stay up late, listen to music too loud, love all the boys. Talk on your home phone! No one uses them anymore. Drink less soda. Write more, watch less. You will never meet Lance from *NSYNC. Actually, he’s gay. Those kids in school are right! 😮 Laugh as much as you can, even at yourself. In fact, be the one laughing the loudest. Enjoy having someone worry about you. Enjoy your mother, cherish her. She’s incredible. Hug your Uncle Tom, he only has 10 years left. DON'T MARRY DAN! Love yourself as much as you love everyone else. You deserve it. ❤️ Yourself at 30

June, 2012

Dear Ben; I just wanted to write this. I just hung up from with you on Google and tonight is the night. THE night. I’m really afraid you don’t understand why I’ve been so shy about this. It’s not you at all! I’ve just not had the best history with men. You know this about me. I need to do this, though. You don’t pressure me, you don’t even ask much of me. I ask much more of you and I’m not shy about asking for more after, either. The truth is? I want this for me. Ben I know you know this but I just want you. I don’t mean for a week in October. I just need this to be something. If October goes well, I’ll plan to come ther in February. And if that goes well, I want to move to Australia. I have nothing here. I care about you so much, more than anything else in my life and I know you think this is stupid, to pack up all my shit and leave but I can’t think of anything I’d want more. I’ll do it on your schedule. If it’s possible, if you want me the way I want you? This is what I want. You. Just you. Something real that isn’t separated by a keyboard and Twitter and continents and oceans. I want you, I want real. If you want the same thing, that is. I’ll help you. I’ll do whatever you need, we can do this together. I want to be in a relationship with you. Because you are so incredibly good to me. I don’t care that we met online, the circumstances. I will come there for you because that’s what you do for someone you love. I’ll sell my crap, I’ll learn to drive on the left side of the road and eat Vegemite and watch for wallabies in the road. I will pick up and move with no second thoughts. I don’t have my hopes up. On the contrary, I actually expect nothing. I expect this to fall to pieces. But you need to know what I want, clear and plain, all cards on the table. I have wanted this from the very beginning. You’ve done more for me, made me happier than anyone else in this world, and you’ve done it literally a world away. You make me smile, you make me excited for the day, you make me want life in a vital and desperate way. You make me want things I have never wanted before. What’s done is done. Stop feeling guilty for my divorce and I’ll stop feeling guilty for leaving you like I did the first time. I want to just start over, start fresh. You be mine and I’ll be yours. Can you do that for me?

An Introduction

Welcome to The Letters Project, a deeply personal journey I started years ago to get me through something very painful. To say that what I felt was unique would be discrediting to scores of people that have ever lost someone, has ever had their heart broken, have ever been hurt. But, we all deal with things in different ways. I decided to write. I was involved in what I can see now as a one-sided relationship, to borrow words from a friend, and though I could see the end coming inland like a storm over the ocean, I still fell apart. Someone suggested I write him a letter. This is where it started. Then I found letters I wrote to him intending to send that never got sent and as such, developed a really unique idea. What if I collected the letters? What if I wrote more letters? It would be a type of chronological social record of how I felt and how feelings change drastically over the natural life of a relationship. Doing this also taught me a great deal about myself. How I handle things, how I overreact or under react. My capacity for forgiveness. I’m publishing these in a blog now hoping to have someone stumble upon them and know that though we all handle pain differently, no one knows our own pain as well as we do ourselves. We go through these experiences to learn. To grow. To know ourselves and know intimately what we can and cannot handle. I’ve learned a few things about handling pain, handling disappointment. But I have an incredible capacity for love, for forgiveness, for happiness. So here is my journey. All the crazy. All the sadness, the anxiety, the ups and downs. Here is my life. Please: enjoy the letters. ~ The Author