Open Letter

o·pen let·ter noun noun: open letter; plural noun: open letters a letter, often critical, addressed to a particular person or group of people but intended for publication.


As I drove through the middle of the night with my family asleep a song came on and I thought about you. Actually a hit list of songs came on. The songs were the soundtrack to my past. The perfect songs to play while I had 8 hours of pure quiet. Just me and the road.

The first song was Satellite from Dave Matthews Band. Do you remember that song? Do you remember the day we played it on repeat over and over again in our $585 per month rent apartment. From the disc changer on top of our brand new giant financed headboard? Before Ethan. Before Chris. Before Tracy.  Before our ending became our only story. The song made me feel good. I felt good about you. About our brief moment in time of happiness. And then I felt sadness because I struggle with the truth of it all. The truth is I was unfair to you from the moment we met. Before I met you I was in love with another man. When I met you I was in love with another man. When I married you I was in love with another man. At 19 years old I cheated you out of your first marriage. I struggled with wondering if I ever loved you. I know I never loved you as much as I loved Chris. I know I never loved Chris as much I love Nate. But could it have all been fake? Could the feelings this song bring to surface not have been real? Did I really ever love you? And if I didn't that means all of this was all my fault. I never once felt regret for sleeping with Chris. And I still don't. I loved him. It should have been him and not you. You should have been the boy you were when I meant you. Young, fun, carefree. Did I steer you down a wrong path or was there real love? I still don't know the answer to that. Did I ever love you? I don't know. I want to say yes. I want to believe I couldn't have married someone without love. I hit repeat on the song. 4 times. I thought about the silly moments. The smiles. The laughter. The success we found at an early age. My son. There had to be love there. There still is. For the Matt I remember that use to smile a genuine smile. The helpful man that grilled for us. You were the son your father could be proud of. As a mom now I can see it in Jim's face. He was proud of you back then and you were deserving of that pride. And I felt peace in that realization. We did well together when we were honest with each other. We were both good to our son but eventually horrible to each other. Therew was love just not enough of it.

Evanescense- My Immortal. I started to cry. The pain was real. And if the pain was real then the love was real. I remember sitting in the sunlight of the sliding glass door staring into this house that had our furniture but no pictures on the wall. A couple boxes still unpacked and I was alone. And the pain I felt sitting alone in the home we bought with our son was real. I've never felt so alone in my life. You have no idea how that felt. You went from our house to a new house. From one life to another life. And as the song played the pain was unbearable. You hurt me. You shamed me. You lied and lied and lied to me. From that moment you acted like none of it matter anymore. That I didn't matter to you. That our marriage didn't matter. And you made it all my fault. I was fat, I was a cheater, she was better than me. You left me with the shell of a life we created and with all the pressure. 23 years old with the weight of the world thrown on her while you left to go party and drink with your new friends. In the beginning I fought for you. I fought for our marriage. I begged you. And the person I once knew. That young boy was gone. And in your eyes I saw nothing except a monster. "You use to captivate me by your resonating light. Now I'm bound by the life you left behind. Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams. Your voice chased away all the sanity in me." 

And then the worst part was you used my son. You used him to hurt me over and over again. You called me and made me listen to Ethan call Tracy mom. You called me a bad mother. You stole him from me. You hid him from me. You did everything you could to tear me down by using the one thing you knew you could. My baby. How could you use the one good thing we did together as a tool to hurt me? How could I ever forgive you for that? For almost 3 years I lived a hell that nobody deserves. And I hated you for that. I hated you more than I've ever hated anybody in my entire life. But from that hate and pain came a strength I didn't know I had. It made me a better mom. It made me a better wife. It made me more independent person.

The next song that came on was Nick Lachey "I can't hate you anymore".   And I laughed. Such a swirl of emotions in 4 minutes. Peace is a relieving feeling. I don't hate you anymore. I have zero hatred for you. I feel nothing but sadness for you. The sad lonely life you must have been living the past 11 years must be unbearable. How could I hate you? You gave me the one thing I was too weak to get on my own. My freedom. I was miserable. I was in a loveless marriage. I was 900 miles from home. I would have never left. The horrible fights. The horrible words. The violence. I would have stayed. Catching you cheating was the best thing that could have happened. I just wish we both would have handled it differently. You never caught me cheating on you. I know you told people you did but we both know that's a lie. I told you. I couldn't stand the lie anymore. I did it once. And it didn't feel wrong and I still spoke to Chris everyday and I needed you to know the truth. I saw the hurt in your eyes. I heard the hurt when you called him and screamed at him. I wish the truth I gave you months before you could have provided me months later. But to this day you don't feel like I or we were worthy of being told the truth. I think you've told so many lies you don't know the truth anymore. My only regret from our marriage is the way I handled the fall. I let myself get sucked into this nasty fight. It was disgusting and I thank God that my husband didn't run for the hills. God knows he should have.

"Stupid Boy" by Keith Urban. You stupid stupid boy. 2 women. 2 women that loved you enough to have children with you. 2 homes. 4 life's. "You stupid boy. You will always be the same ole same ole stupid boy." The dramatic person in me thinks you will never find that peace you should have until you have settled all your past debts. To be honest with each one of your ex-wives and your sons. To throw yourself on the cross and ask for forgiveness. As long as you are puking out the same lies and bullshit you will never have the life one would think you desire. Don't you want more? I want more for you. I pray that the one day my baby boy decided he wants to see you that he finds a family man with a straight life. That it's not the same ole stupid boy, a little older, a litter heavy, and even more filled with sadness from 2004. I want my son to see something he can be proud of. I really thought when you left FL you were going to do that. It's what I said to you on the phone when you told me you left. This was your chance for a do over. I don't care that you left me or Tracy but one day you will have to answer to these boys. If you think they are going to believe some bullshit about the 2 women who have raised them you are delusional my friend. Do something with your life. Stop being that same ole stupid boy.

I don't remember what songs played next. I think it was a Reba song and I sang my heart out. I've always loved music and the power of the carefully written words. How one song can time warp you into another time. It was amazing to me that moment that God took to open my heart and eyes on that quiet ride. I never have hours of quiet with just my thoughts and he took full advantage to bring me clarity on you. On the highway of I-10 westbound I sorted it all out. I sorted out my feelings and my fear of you reading my blog. And the power this blog allowed me knowing you would read it. I could say it all. I could say everything I wanted to and you can't interrupt me. It made me feel powerful. I had peace in knowing I was going to open my blog back up and write you an open letter. My resolution was I was going to let go of my fear. I was going to clear my head and say what I had to say. I'm going to continue to be the best woman I know how to be.

I'm sorry for my faults Matt. I'm sorry for my mistakes in our marriage. I'm sorry for the years following them. I'm sorry you haven't found your happy ending yet but I have. I will continue to hope and pray that one day you find yours sooner than later.

Sabrina