To My Ex

My Dearest Cella,

I’ve loved you for decades. When I say “you”, I saw the wounded little girl inside of you, the meek-spirited, unsure, self-doubting little girl, and I loved that little girl.

Passionately. Protectively. Provisionally.

I’ve had time to think about why you would stay with me through the hells of our existence. I’ve heard countless online resources describe covert narcissism as “evil”, I’ve heard that coverts never really see the person, only a supply. I see the supply as valid, because I served my life up to worship you. I do not see your acts as evil, even though they feel that way. Alienating a man from his children is a severe harm that has, in my current perception, no redemption.

I told you many times, when you would act in ways that gave rise to me approaching you and asking you to stop doing a certain behavior, that if you have done something wrong, just come tell me that you’re sorry and crawl up on my lap, be the little girl, and let me tell you it’s going to be okay. You never did this. You never took that opportunity to be vulnerable.

Hell, I even wrote a poem about this, and had it monogrammmed in crosstitch for you.

I see now, why you couldn’t. You were always self-realizing as wounded, and not wanting to be wounded any more from admission of error. You needed to keep yourself safe from getting in trouble, so you could feel okay.

I admit, I asked you to be a buffer between me and the kids because of misophonia (noise triggers). I never expected this to turn into a separation wall that ostracized and excommunicated me as a father. For that, I feel betrayed and angry.

It became systemic, me in one part of our home, and them in another. I would tell you that I was going back to tell them that I love them, and I distinctly knew and expected the answer you always gave. “Don’t do that, it’ll upset them.” I now look at this and wonder why I was in such a place of performance that I couldn’t resolve this with compelled discussion… I just submitted to this. In my heart, it was love that I was submitting to, because I didn’t want more turmoil either. In hindsight, I see that this was weak of me, and self-deprecating to participate in things I evidently believed I deserved - to be unlovable.

I spoke with you about this often, the feeling of being unlovable, and I now see that there was never any empathy, although you’d listen to me talk.

The comedian Theo Von made an observation that he went through life and he wasn’t saying that he didn’t have people, but that no one had him. No one had his back. I identify deeply with this, even almost three months after you’ve exited. I help people. I fix things. I address situations. Trouble, other than the trouble of stepping up to resolve this ex-communication as a father was something I never shied away from. Hell, it was my comfort zone to be in trouble, to know how to get out of it, except for this one, most important thing of the family disconnect.

I still don’t have first hand knowledge of what you and the kids talked about. I would ask you what you talk with them about, and whether or not you let them know I love them (as I was abiding in the separation I was seemingly powerless to address). You never gave me substantive answers to this.

I had a dream this morning that let me know if you were still here, my health would have detiorated quickly to the point of emergency.

I worked through this in my mind, and it dawns upon me that while I will always love that wounded little girl, I will never appreciate or accept that it was right, valid, or appropriate for you to wall yourself off as well, avoiding any kind of acceptance of responsibility.

Never once, not one single time, did you ever advocate for me as a father in front of me. Never once did you tell them that I deserve respect and love. At least this wasn’t something you did in front of me. I asked for you to take up for me. I asked for you to have me - to have my back. That never happened.

I hope you have a life of self-discovery and healing. I hope you find your way. My wounds won’t be avoided, and I’m working on them daily. Perhaps one day healing and redemption can occur. I have no hope for redemption at the moment, but I do have hope of having my voice and existence heard and observed.

Athough I don’t wish this on you, what you took from me deserves the deepest levels of hell.

I used to have a bond with these kids. They used to know I love them and would do anything for them. You took that from me. That is unforgiveable.

P.D., Jay Vincent