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Dear Dad, Mom, Rachel, Maddie, Ron, Alex, & Pain

Miscellaneous By: Kathleen Megquier
Memoir



This is a letter to all that have hurt me, and the lurking Pain that is always around a corner when I least expect it.


Submitted:Jun 12, 2011    Reads: 95    Comments: 3    Likes: 0   


6/12/2011

Dear Dad, Mom, Rachel, Maddie, Ron, Alex, and Pain,

I thought I might take this route, I've directed myself to every therapeutic avenue I'm aware of. This is my final destination I think. I need to just lay it all out, in vivid detail, I just need to explain the hurt that I've been going through in the past year. I guess where it all started inevitably with you Dad. You would probably take the cake, make the list of names above dissipate, because you were the cause of the domino effect in my life. When you died Dad, things collapsed. I self-destructed as quietly as a I could. I can remember the night, the words I left you with. "I hate you." I do believe that, that was the first time that phrase ever left my freshly turned eleven year old mouth. I hated you. I'm not quite sure why, but I expressed it as such. We were probably bickering about something incoherent. I can't even recall the subject. Then you left. You went out with Mom and the very next day, I found that you had died. It was a shock, actually, it wasn't a shock at all, it was more so, true denial. I didn't believe it. I felt like it was a trick, as if I was being punished for the night before. Even when I saw your dead body, it didn't feel like it was you in that casket but someone else, someone else's father. I mean, I was Katie. The girl that had nothing traumatic happen to her besides the make-believe visions in her head. Nothing permanent, nothing concrete like this, my brain didn't know how to register it. I still feel like I'm being punished Dad, for that night. I know you'd want me to let it go and live my life, like your wife and daughter so gracefully do every single day. Dad, but you know how I am, you know the compulsions overthrow me. It's temperate, but existing none the less. The men I pick Dad, their gruesome. Yet, they fulfill me at the time, a guilty fulfillment. All and all Dad, I miss you, and ever since you died, I feel like I've been dying slowly after you, I hope one day, I shall wake up, and the pain has been dismissed, my silent knight slaying all that has mentally scarred, and haunted me. Your spirit lives through the music you've left behind Dad, I've downloaded illegally every track your ears have ever listened to, and it's been my comfort, though not nearly a fit replacement. I love you Dad, and I hope that I see you someday, because without that promise to myself, I don't think I'd be able to take another breath. Oh Mom, what to say, I want to so faithfully bring all the blame on to you. Yet, I know in my heart you've attempted to do the best you could with me from the very beginning. You've hurt me so immensely I can't even pinpoint the exact day it started to affect my brain. The words you said stabbed my brain a thousand times it felt like, you made me look down on myself, my intellectual ability has always been in question because of you. Though, I know you only wanted the best for me, the best has been killing me since. My cutting started after the very first slap swept across my face, claimed by your hand. I remember that day, I sat behind my closed bedroom door, and started to slice my wrists, the sobs I choked back in, my body feeling nothing but the slices that I inflicted on myself. You always scared me into lying, compulsion has consumed me, and honestly, I do believe that is just a genetic trait I inherited all on my own. I lost my virginity prematurely, just to spite you, that blew up in my face, like everything else I tried to do just to spite you. Though, you don't know that my purity has been relinquished formally, I have a strong feeling you are aware of it's absence.

I want to love you Mom, but I think you need to start accepting the creature I am first, or maybe, I need to accept that fact that I may never be accepted by you, and will always be ranking last on your chart for perfection. When you brought David into the house, it was like another slap across the face. Our father's home, tainted by his presence, after you promised us kids that you would never have a "live in-boyfriend" move in with us. It hurt me more than your secret dating life that slowly unraveled into view. Your deceit only made me want to make you distrust me even more, you were what I depended on, if you lied to me then, who knows what else you'd lie about in the future. I had no one to trust, my father dead, you sneaking away to see your lovers. I never felt so alone, sleeping away at distant relatives. It made me so insecure, security leaving my so secure past life. I know you love me Mom, in a way I can't even define, but the hugs, and kisses that filled our home when Dad was around, will always be missed and yearned for by me. Dearest Rachel, what to say about you, you are my sister and my rival. I know you hurt too, but it's so hard to see on your face, you hold yourself with such confidence, and independence, my words possess me and sometimes I use them to bring you down. Yet, you need to understand, my envy towards you has urged me to ruin myself further. You're so bright, and smart, and I know you are going to go far, and I feel like you are leaving me behind, I know you hold a lot of resentment towards me, but you also have caused me mass amounts of pain, disowning me as your sister. Leaving me out of your life, locking the door and throwing the key out the window. It pains me. I just want to be invited inside. I know we might not ever be close, actually, deep down inside, I know this for a fact. You travel in a different orbit, an orbit I wish I could soar through as easily as you seem to do. Maybe, one day we can look at each other as equals, instead of belittling each other constantly, and hurting each other emotionally, I want to love you. Maddie, my childhood best friend, my former rock. You've probably pushed me farthest off the ledge. You only proven the thesis to be correct. Everyone leaves me in the end. You truly were my diary, my security, my safe to fill my secrets in. Then you dumped me at the start of junior year, my spiral began to go in full spin. If my best friend, my father, my mother, my sister, leave me alone in the dark, why don't I make the dark my home? So, I let awful creatures enter my purified world. Men that disgust me, friends that would stab me in the back over spilt salt. Just so I could live in the illusion of false affection and stability. I think I resent you the most, because you betrayed me, and fed me to the dogs. High school's gates looked scarier each time I reached them. You were suppose to be my best friend, but you just became one of the soggy cardboard figures in my life. The pain you caused me is undeniable, but I can see that you were hurting too, and that caused you to leave. Understandable through a outside perspective. I'm still attempting to forgive your abandonment by replying to your Facebook posts, and accepting your occasional rides home. I think I'll be able to get there someday. Ah, my sweet Ron, the keeper of my virginity, my stolen youth. What to even begin to say about you. You were an escape, like most of my men I evaded to. Yet, I let you take what was no doubt, not yours to have. I regret it in most cases, but I'm also thankful that I'm not left wondering, and my fairytale prince is rotting dead in the corner. You knew I wasn't ready, and put me through the ringer, but the thing I admired best about you, was the fact that you were so easy to read, just like me. You were the most open male I ever let have me.

I greeted your shit parade with open arms, and what I saw was what I got, and I will forever appreciate that. Yet, that doesn't eliminate the fact that you are scum, and like your flesh underage. I'll always remember you, but hating you is much easier than forgiving you. My hate is passionless, it's just a known fact, like how the sky is blue, and the grass is green. Alex, my current pain. You make me want to go in poetic mode, right here, right now. But I won't. This is suppose to be clear as day, no metaphorical sugarcoating. Just raw truth. You, my dear friend, are something of a disease. I knew you were harmful, but I let the disease spread on my brain, and let it take over my actions. You are no different from Ron, besides the fact that you, are a good liar. You made me feel like all the countless girls that doodle their crush's name on their Hello-Kitty, notebook a dozen times over. I was not who I was with you, and that's something I'm truly livid about, you made me into something I wasn't, and it wasn't willing by the way. You like Ron, like your women young and naïve. Easy to manipulate. Yet, you go all out, you slap labels left and right, make me sign this, make me signature that, so I'm forever connected to you. It makes me sick sometimes, that you immediately threw me away like yesterday's garbage, when you realized that I wasn't complying to your way of having a relationship. You embarrassed me, and made me shameful of my body in a way Ron was incapable of doing. You made yourself real in my life, something Ron wouldn't dare do. Now that I think about it, you and Ron aren't so much alike, I think Alex, you are worse. You are false advertisement, and broken promises all tide up in one. Yet, I think I knew this all along, I just wanted to fall into the teenage girl dream, if only it was for a few months. To my Pain, whether your disguised as my dead father, my mother and sister, a boy or a dozen. You are still always there, lurking in corners, waiting to pounce on my renewed contentment. When I feel like I've escaped you, you smack me right in the face, and wake me up from my delusions of being rid of you. I know I'll have to learn to cope with you, and learn to trust again, but for now, I like putting this wall up, this barrier between you, and what's waiting outside for me.

Sincerely, Kathleen.





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