Al niño que pillaron con la mano en el tarro de las galletas: No culpes a la galleta

Oh, you’re mad at me I hear. I made things difficult for you, did I? Am I supposed to apologize? Sabes lo que hiciste, ¿verdad? Hiciste trampa, y luego te atraparon. I didn’t try to cheat on my wife. I didn’t track down my high school sweetheart nearly a decade after I broke her heart to apologize. I was minding my own fucking business. Living my life. You, a distant memory accompanied by a bad taste in my mouth. The taste of pain, betrayal and desperation.

Eras un sueño de instituto hecho realidad que se convirtió en pesadilla. Entraste en mi vida como una fantasía. Capitán del equipo de fútbol y del de baloncesto. Inteligente, carismático, guapo, encantador y divertido. Todas esas cosas. El tipo de atractivo que es innegable. Dejaste que me enamorara de ti y luego la elegiste a ella. ENTONCES, en lugar de dejarme ir, me retuviste hasta que me convertí en un inconveniente para ti. Luego, finalmente, te deshiciste de mí de la peor manera. Sabes lo que hiciste. Y luego te persiguió. Durante ocho años te persiguió. Preguntaste por mí a nuestros amigos, seguiste mi evolución y esperaste. You waited until I was perfectly fine. When the ghost of who you were to me had long since settled in my mind, and then you decided to assuage your own guilt. At the expense of my heart—and had I let you in—possibly my future.

Cuando oí tu voz, volví a tener quince años. Cuando me dijiste que me querías, la joven que había en mí se sintió eufórica. Fue como si el tiempo desapareciera y volviéramos a ser nosotros. Todas las cosas que nos gustaban de ser nosotros. Pero las mujeres adultas culo me llamó bullshit. Puta mierda. Éramos una mentira. Éramos una ilusión that disappeared when you returned to your girlfriend and pretended that we were just friends, and I pretended that it didn’t kill me. We were nothing more than me idolizing you to the point that I couldn’t see you were using me. I gave you all the things you were missing from your relationship, and then you got to go back to it while I was left twisting in the wind until the next time you needed what you needed from me. Yo era tu lugar seguro. Tu persona. Pero ELLA era tu mujer. Y allí pasé 10 años, esperando a que despertaras y vieras que yo podía ser tu todo.

You can pretend that you didn’t know that I LOVED you, that we were something that we weren’t. Puedes reescribir la historia en tu cabeza para que tu personaje parezca más cercano. Pero la verdad es que eras egoísta. Eras egoísta entonces y eres egoísta ahora. After everything you put me through, and you put me through some shit that could fill up a novel… you don’t even deserve to be forgiven. But I did forgive you. A long time ago. When I stopped loving you. When I looked long and hard at the situation and determined that you did what you thought you needed to for yourself and your family, I let it go. Me mudé tan lejos past it that I didn’t even hate you anymore.

En todo ese tiempo, te dejé solo. Para vivir tu vida con la mujer que elegiste. Para construir una familia con el niño que creaste mientras aún te acostabas conmigo y a sabiendas no usabas anticonceptivos. Incluso cuando me dejaste enterarme por otra persona de que tu hijo había nacido, dos semanas después de la última vez que estuve contigo y no tenía ni idea de que estabas a semanas de ser padre. Te dejé sola. Despite how much you hurt me, I didn’t try to hurt you back, or shatter your world like you did mine. I left you alone—to marry her, have another child with her, raise those children with her. I left you alone. That’s what you do when you actually love somebody. Los dejas ir. You let them live their life, even if it’s not with you because you sincerely want the best for them… even when they have given you no reason to show such loyalty.

Así que, ahora usted Señor, NO se enfade conmigo. I did NOTHING to you, aside from express what effect your appearance in my life (8 years after you extinguished yourself from it in the cruelest possible way) was having on my psyche. And just to be clear about what that effect was, for starters, I cried for three full days. I called in sick to work for two. My mom came to visit me, got off the plane, took one look at me and thought I was vomiting all day. Nope, just crying. Non-stop. Because mom, you remember that time you told me, “That guy doesn’t love you. He is not your friend, and you need to leave him alone.” Remember that? Yeah, well, apparently he really DID love me. So there. See. More tears. Some mom rage. Reminders of alllllllll the things he did that were terrible. Like I forgot. That was the start of it.

Luego la incertidumbre cuando intentabas decirme que era a mí a quien querías y con quien querías estar. El profundo deseo en mí de creerte. La necesidad de que fuera verdad. De validar que todo lo que había pasado formaba parte de una retorcida historia de amor que iba a terminar felizmente contigo y conmigo saltando hacia la puesta de sol. The months of anguish as I heard from you sporadically at best, but you kept swearing you loved me, and wanted to be with me, and you just want to see me… and me saying no. Wanting to say yes. Missing you, wanting you, aching for something that I had resigned to myself would never be. Until finally I was like, fuck you in a flurry of texts… seemingly out of nowhere. Just expressing how selfish you’ve been, and how much you’ve really hurt me over the years. I was entitled to that. At the very least. So you don’t get to be mad at me because your wife saw that. That’s not my fault, nor was it my intention. I’ll be honest though, I feel bad for her… but you? Puedes irte a la mierda. You’re mad at me? Go on.