On One Hand

March 23, 2007


Filed under: Uncategorized — ononehand @ 8:14 pm
Tags: ,

Dear ex,

I heard from a friend of a friend that you were upset about my failure to reply to your messages last summer.

I am sorry that I chose re-discovering dignity and emotional wellness over preventing you from feeling sort-of rejected by my friendship after you dumped me. I admit my “dwelling-on” of the technicalities of the way it happened; you’re right: a birthday is, after all, just any other day, and an email is an exciting new form of rapid communication. I understanding your frustration at never having been quite able to articulate how I was the one at fault for all our problems.

Perhaps I was foolish, when you wanted to spend time together after we broke up and I begrudgingly agreed – only to be stood up – to then assume you were less concerned about our continuing, transformed companionship than about your being described, generally, as an ass, if I were to fulfil my ambition of being a writer. I know you are no longer concerned with this now since I assured you that if I am ever to be widely published, you or the 8-month span of our fiasco will appear in my memoirs, at most, only in passing. Otherwise, a more lengthy exposition of our situation will take into account the utter gut-wrenching complexity of the whole disaster and accurate depiction of each party’s liability for what took place, in proportion to truth.

I think my indifference shall not cause you dismay, since you once told me, (I beleive it was the night I was in the hospital overnight and called to tell you where I was so you could come by, but you were “already on your way” to your next-door neighbor’s party), that “no one is responsible for another person’s feelings.” I assure you it is a warm indifference that I feel, and that I am grateful to have learned the importance of being willing to visit loved ones when they are alone in the hospital.

I look forward to each of our separate lives and hearing through friends of friends that you are happy, fulfilled, and always loved by people no less sympathetic and well-meaning than yourself.



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