300 Letters - 68. Letter 67 (Fuck this - I am who I am)

Letter 67

18 March 2016

Dear C,

A few days ago I received your email telling me you won't be coming to see me anytime soon as you are still too weak to travel here. I totally understand this babe... I don't know why I called you babe. I'm sorry. And I am sorry you are feeling weak. I wish you could just recover as soon as possible. And have all of this behind you.

Reading your email made me upset. It's funny how your ice cold words can make my heart crack and bleed. The way you constructed your sentences and your use of words are very cruel and calculated. Full of hate.

Calling me greedy and focused only on my own benefits is extremely unfair and painful. I explained to you why I never told you about my relationship with Roland and how our relationship ended way before I even met you. How he meant nothing to me and that the only way we were connected was through my passport so he could become British citizen. And me, naive idiot agreed to it, because he was begging me. I dismissed the fact he was cheating on me and I decided to help him. That's all.

But I understand that you finding all this out from Kasia and not me was a shocker. And I totally understand that. But I apologized so many times. I never told you about him, because I was fucking scared I would lose you, if you knew I still had some unfinished business with that guy.

But calling me greedy?

Doing things for my own benefits?

C, I could have easily left you the moment I found out you were diagnosed with cancer. I spent every day by your hospital bed. I even put my case court on the side and I focused all my energy on you. Even though my solicitor kept telling me to focus on the case. You were way more important. So yes, call me greedy and tell me I only wants benefits.

I also sensed that you in fact, were enjoying the fact I am in prison. You called me a fucking mess and it almost felt like you didn't care I was innocent anymore. Even though you might be too weak to travel, but you have plenty of energy to treat me like shit. And to humiliate me. Seems like you are on the mission to tell as many people as possible that you left me and that I am here.

But you know what? I still do not regret the fact that I asked God or whatever there is to take me here so you can get better. Stupid me you'd say.

But fuck this. I am who I am.

I never wanted to reply to your email at first, it was too painful. But now I think you should get my replay. I will not be emotional. I will not be shaky. I will go straight to the point and answer all the questions you asked. I will never let you know how much I am hurting. I know it would make you happy.

I know you will soon find someone (or maybe you already have) and I wish you all the best. Find your happiness with a guy of whom you can truly love and stay with him through thick and thin. And if he ever loves you half as much as I did (and still fucking do) then I know you are in good hands.

My affair with this thing called "love" has come to an end. I am no longer planning to love again. Love is like a disease to me. It poisons your body, heart, your mind. It brings nothing but bitterness and pain. It teases you with its sweetness at the beginning to stub you in your back when you least expect it.

I was your biggest disappointment you said in your email. If I made you feel that way, I am sorry.

Maybe you are right? Maybe I have become just a disappointment to everybody.