Actually, this is more like a dollar's worth, but I'll give you change if you ask for it. Mona had a recent post about the therapeutic value of writing letters to those who are no longer a part of our lives, as a tool to grieve the loss of the relationship. We usually think of loss in terms of death, but it can be just as much of a loss to lose a friendship or a home or a workplace or a friend. I'm the world's WORST/BEST about writing a letter when I can't face my feelings head on and navigate through them. Mona maintains that this is a healthy way to be, and I agree.

Many times, the end of a marriage is like a gas fire for the first months or years as the exes become accustomed to a new way of being with each other and their children and friends. I've read enough horror stories on blogs about who's taking out their anger on who to know that the evil green monster of hatred and jealousy is alive and well. My ex-husband came from quite a dysfunctional family. He was raised by a grandmother and alcoholic step-grandfather thinking that his "Sis" was his sister when,in fact,she was his birth mother. She became pregnant at the age of 16 by a step-brother in the same household and the lie was quickly established. Around the age of 13, he was told the truth after he found his birth certificate. His "grandparents" received a SS check for his care, and they had a son of their own. My ex...let's call him J, is a typical ACOA with his control issues way out of control by the time I met him. Passive aggressive behavior is how he dealt with me and his BabyGirl. The way we got together is irrelevant, but the ending of it was my decision. I spent over twenty years trying to love someone who didn't know the true meaning of the word, and I finally got tired and gave up. My sincere hope was that he would find some kind of peace, whether with someone else or just on his own. That's sure as hell what I was looking for.

He is now sitting in the county jail serving a 30 day term for worthless checks. He is homeless. I have held my daughter's hand and wiped away her tears during the months that she has watched him destroy his body and his mind, first with methamphetamines and then with crack in the company of users who prey on "nice" folks with addictions. She has struggled, as I have, to let go of him as we watch him slowly kill himself. And we wonder why and how someone can get to the point where they don't care about anything but the next buzz. I felt a little bit guilty for awhile, but not much. Each person on this earth is ultimately responsible for their own actions, and for the consequences of those actions. Entitlement doesn't have a place in my vocabulary.

For those of you who are jealously watching every move made by your ex and snarking at their happiness, consider this scenario. All you wanted was a new life with a chance for peace and happiness for you and your child(ren). What you got,instead, was the next act of a real live human tragedy over which you have no control. Something evil is the director of this play. And all you want is for the curtain to close and it all be over.

Actually, I'm okay and so is BabyGirl. We still cry at the sadness of what we know is such a waste of a kind soul that won't ask for or accept help because of pride. But that soul is in our past now. And this is my letter to that soul. Keep the faith, J. I've moved on, and I hope that you will too.

^j^