I’m not sure to whom I should address this letter or even what is this letter about. I’m fighting my feelings so I can make sense of them, but I can’t. It’s an explosive and bizarre mixture of shame, disgust, sadness, disbelief, astonishment and so much more. I should not and I’m probably not mad regarding her. You know her, I mentioned her name Saturday. I said I know everything, even tho you have denied it – yet again.

The pain comes from someplace else. Someone else entirely. I have been talking about us in therapy, coping with some things that are not how I have pictured – and reminding myself that control is nothing but an illusion. Most days I deal with everything with a smile on my face – I made the decision to fight for us and so I have tried, deeply, to remove my jealous goggles and live a more freely life by your side. Knowing that she is a very strong presence in your life. Knowing that there are so many others.

My pain, this time, comes from shame.

Disgust.

I thought you could not surprise me no longer. I thought my heart already knew all there was and my work on myself and my goggles was going to do the trick on the long run. I was wrong.

Will you ever tell me why you needed to hire a prostitute? What does she have that I can’t give? Will I ever understand?

And now, after finding this out, I understand why you were pushing me away. No msgs, no phone calls, no nothing. Now I understand the silent treatment. And it is quite clear that the more you push me away, the more I fight to keep us together. Question is, how much further can you push me before I walk away?