Hi, it’s me.
I found your email address in WhatsApp group chat. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m doing this for the sake of my well-being. At first, I thought I was okay keeping things unexplained. Turns out I’m not. I need a proper closure, I just want to feel relieved and maybe this is the only way.
First of all, I apologize I returned the bracelet and the iron man keychain, I had to. Keeping those things hurt me even worse. And I apologize I had to block every access to you because anxiety brutally kicks me again and again when I see your name on any social platforms.
I’m disappointed, honestly. If I’m not mistaken you said you wanted to be my friend, you wanted to help me to ease the pain. But, maybe I get that wrong. It was my fault for trusting you, knowing that you experience the same pain.
Unlike you, when words easily came out from your mouth, it takes a toll on me to tell those things about my father. It’s never been easy for me. Even you knew I have no ability to answer his call without losing my breath. But it was amazing somehow, I had that power to tell you the reason why it is difficult to answer his call. I even recklessly showed you a photo of my sister’s wounded finger and explained what caused it.
I once told you, I really am afraid to tell people things about my parents because when I did, they left. And, just like everyone else, you left.
I still have so much to say to you, but then again there is no use saying those things now.
Thank you, though. Thank you for listening to me, crying while ranting about my father. Thank you for asking if I’m okay. Thank you for not judging the way I feel. Thank you for the midnight calls. Thank you for trusting me when I can’t even do it myself. I’m grateful that we met, truly I am. At least I know how it feels to be genuinely understood by a real person who experiences the same nightmare, even though only for a brief moment.
I’m sorry for all the bad things. I’m sorry for the divorce, the bully, the disappointment, the heartbreak. I’m sorry that you have to feel pain.
Hell, I should’ve hugged you that night. The moment you gave me the iron man keychain. Little did I know it was my last chance.
Okay then. May life treats you good and I hope your trauma healed.
Let this be my closure.