Hemingway once said, “All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
As I no doubt have told you before, I’m not actually a Hemingway fan. But that’s a conversation for another time. I’m bringing this quote up because I think it’s completely beautiful. And because I’ve been doing a lot of that lately in my writing. So, just in case you’re reading this, I’ve got a few true sentences for you.
First of all, I’m just going to throw an apology out there. As much as it feels like I’ve been thrown in front of a train with no warning for no reason, I’m sure there are things I’ve done that have hurt you. And I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.
There are a lot of people who are really, really angry with you. And they’re telling me all kinds of things. But I just want you to know that I’m not one of them. I was for a while. I was really, really angry. I want to address some of those things that made me angry.
I was angry because this entire situation has consisted of what you wanted, and your timing. It never seemed to matter how I felt, what I wanted, or the answers that I had received. When it came down to it, it seemed like I didn’t really matter at all. It seemed like you were being incredibly selfish. That’s been hard to deal with. I think you need to know that, just in case you’re reading this.
I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Nobody does. When you’re as close as we were, and planning the things we were planning, you don’t act that way. You don’t walk away with no explanation and no warning. You don’t cut ties that fast. You don’t shut down, slam the door, and make a decision that drastically changes both of your lives because of some vague thing. What you do is communicate and try and work through it. You trust the other person and their feelings and thoughts. And if, after some time of working together and trusting God, things still aren’t working, then you make decisions. Together.
Love is messy, okay? Life is messy. Dumb things happen and people make mistakes. But it’s worth it. It is all worth it.
I’m not angry now, though. I guess that’s just a blessing. I was praying one night, and got told pretty forcefully that it was time to forgive you. That both of us needed that. So I hope that when I was finally able to forgive you that you felt it.
You called the other day. The only reason I didn’t answer is because I was in line at the grocery store. I saw your name on the screen of my phone and nearly had a heart attack. It was something I never thought I’d see again. I was hoping you’d call back, but you didn’t. You just sent me a text. I tried to be really honest when I responded, but as gentle as I could.
But the truth is that God has been telling me a lot of things in the last few weeks. One of the impressions I’ve been getting is that you’re really going through a lot. Like a lot. You’re really struggling, I think. You feel lost. You’re trying to figure out a lot of things, and you don’t know how. Now, I could be completely and totally wrong. Maybe I am. But I don’t think I am.
And if I’m not wrong, then that brings me to why I said what I said in the texts. If you really are struggling, I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to. If you really are trying to figure things out, I hope it happens for you soon. I wish you’d have let me be there for you, but you didn’t. This was your choice, not mine.
None of this is what I wanted. None of this is what I think was or is right. But because this is what is happening and what has happened, and because of the choices you’ve made, I can’t be there for you. Heavenly Father has told me that this is something you’ve got to do by yourself.
The thing that is the most frustrating is that I’m still in love with you. I don’t know why. There have been a million moments when I wished that wasn’t the case, but it is. I guess I just can’t help it. I’ve been in love with you for too long. I know you too well. You’re too much a part of me. I see you everywhere. The loss of you is something that I carry around with me everywhere, all the time, even in the moments when I finally feel happy again. Even in the moments when I can laugh again.
No matter what happens, you’re going to need a new copy of Les Mis. I threw it away. In the dumpster. Along with a host of other things. My day planner that had all sorts of things in it about you. The playbill from our first date. Your cup. And your wedding present. Yeah, I was already working on it. It was going to be really great. I gathered them all up and threw them into the dumpster as hard as I could.
You called the other day because you miss me. Because despite everything, for a moment you were right where I am, feeling what I’m feeling. And you wish it didn’t have to be this way. You read my poem. As far as poems go, it’s a masterpiece. If I do say so myself, it’s a really, really great poem. It just flowed out of me like a waterfall, honestly. I didn’t even really have to think about it, all of the words were just there. And I meant every single one of them.
I’m still here. Kind of in a state of limbo, to be honest. Heavenly Father keeps telling me things like “be patient” and “I’ve got a plan”. Which could literally mean anything, honestly, but right now I’m just supposed to take life one day at a time and enjoy every moment. I’m working really hard to do those things.
I’m still here. Praying for you. Hoping that you’re okay. Sometimes wishing I could smack you upside the head and shake you into realizing what is so completely obvious, but mostly just going day to day and listening to a lot of music. And writing a lot.
So, there are my true sentences. My really, really true sentences. Whatever you’re thinking or feeling or going through, I hope that you get it all figured out. I pray that I’ll hear from you again. I’ll answer the phone.
In the meantime I’ve got a novel to write. I’ve been working on it a lot, actually. It’s going well. And just so you know, I haven’t changed anything. It’s going to end the way it was always going to end.