A finish

So he gives me a holiday card. My first instinct, anger, is to throw it away unopened. Curiosity buffered that and I ripped the envelope off with a certain satisfaction, thinking to myself, “Oh, I can’t WAIT to see what THIS is…”

I don’t look at the outside. I want to see what is said. Hard to describe, really… I read the words and my first reaction is yet another snarl for how quickly and easily the acceptance comes. “…very sorry it didn’t work out.” Sure you are. So very sorry that you couldn’t do a thing other than let it happen. So very sorry that you weren’t willing to have any more involvement with me but during your “down time”.

Yeah. Right. Vindication is sharp and unhappy. It is no fun being right when you wanted to be wrong.

I read on. As usual, the words tell more than what they’re saying. He mentions missing the closeness. It makes me want to hit him. It reads like such utter bullshit. You could have had such things all the time. You gave them up for not being willing to be near them except on your terms and for lack of consideration of anyone’s needs and wants but your own.

The capper? “I shared more of my heart than I’m used to.” Sorry, I guess I must have missed that part. Maybe I blinked.

I can’t quite laugh. It really isn’t funny. It’s just fucking sad. Sad because it is so very clear that he just doesn’t GET it. Even now, completely bypassing how his choices and actions brought this result and ladling out words of emotion like they mean a damn thing with the utter lack of any action that might make them seem sincere.

He may as well wash his hands and shake them in front of me to show me how he’s shaking off all responsibility. Oh, look! A nice holiday card filled with empty words so he can pretend we ended on a good note.

I look at the cover. It is an Asian scene; snow and temple and calligraphy. For a moment, I smile. At least that much thought and consideration. Then I remember the closing sentence, “…regardless how you feel about me, I hope you have a wonderful holiday.”

Poof. Hah. Damn. What arrogance. Oh, I’m just so torn up over you that it’s necessary for you to hope I have a wonderful holiday?

Oh, honey. Please don’t flatter yourself. There’s a big difference between the idea of you and the reality of you. You demonstrated quite nicely that difference and if I am grieving anything, it is that difference. It isn’t YOU, as you have so very clearly proven.

I wind up chuckling. You could not have made this easier had you tried. All things proven and now, validated by your own hand. You don’t understand how, I’m sure, but that doesn’t exactly matter, now does it?

I shred the card into small pieces and put it out of my life. I need no memories of you… the you I wanted to know never existed and the choices of the you that does are not of interest.

addenda, 12:00: Out to lunch with a co-worker and lo! The final proof sits conveniently by the front door as we’re leaving. Karma, you are a beautiful thing. The best remedy is proof that it was an utter illusion all along. Thank you.