Gengar, Starmie, and Sinistcha

On our shared birthday, nearly a month after you left me, you reached out. We ended that conversation reaffirming no contact, and I know that’s what’s best for both of us. But I thought more than once over the weekend of reaching out just to say a few things out of kindness because I think you deserve that.

I know you tried. I know you worked hard against every instinct in you to run away at every turn. I know there were times you forced yourself to lean in when everything inside you said to push away. I know you wanted things to work, and I wish so desperately that I had the ability to heal all those old wounds of yours so that we could go back to finding refuge in each other.

Part of what I said to you just before this weekend included reasonable boundary statements. Part of what I said, came out with pain, confusion, anger, and a lot of sadness that I’ve been sorting through since you left me. The feelings were real, but I don’t want you to think my lasting impression of you is going to be one of regret, or disgust, or anything like that.

You were courageous enough to step forward when I said I wanted to choose you. You were gracious in sharing your time, your space, and your inner life. You even allowed yourself to step into mine, and allow us to intertwine things that so many others would’ve been hesitant to even try.

I want you to know that I think I understand, and yeah, I wish things worked out differently. But I won’t villainize you, neither to myself, to my friends, or even whomever steps into my life next.

I don’t think any of that cancels out the very real hurt I felt, but my compassion for you is real, I hope you never think otherwise.

I love you. I love your daughter. I’d argue with both of you for hours about the true shade of Gengar’s purple. But I understand that your capacity for all of that and more is asking too much of you right now.

Take good care of yourself, and take good care of her. Truly, I will only ever wish happiness and peace for both of you.