Correspondence

I flipped through the mail that windy
September day.  Oblivious to what
was awaiting for me in that tiny pile.
When I got to your letter I stopped in shock.
My heart dropped and any hint of a smile
disappeared from my face. I wondered
what could you have to say to me.  Three
or more years had gone by, with no visits,
no phone calls and no letters.  How were
you going to try to hurt me this time?

With trembling hands and shaky courage,
I put the letter away out of sight.  I kept
your letter, not opened, not read.  Weeks
went by without me opening it.  Finally
trepidation gave way to curiosity.
I had to know what you wanted to say.
I opened the letter very carefully.  Withdrew
the single page of paper.  Unfolded the letter
and began to read.  One small paragraph,
twelve short sentences and each syllable a
hammer blow to my groin.  My eyes filled
with tears, my face grew hot and the paper
seemed to gain weight with each word I read.

I was transported back to childhood as I read
your letter that day.  Remembering what it
meant to grow up with you.  Your lack of
compassion shocked me.  Your outright
contempt for me washed over me.  Your hatred
for me was always visible.  You acted on your
feelings with pride and purpose.

Excelling at exposing my secrets.  For
all to laugh at.  For all to ridicule.  Never
showing kindness when it didn’t suit you.
Pulverizing my very being every chance
you got.  All to make you feel better.
Treating me less than human for your
amusement.  Bashing my desires and needs
to get what you wanted.  Ridiculing all I did,
a parent sanctioned nightmare.

My vision was completely obscured by hot
tears.  My hands began shaking out of control.
Anger, resentment and fear welled within me
I can’t believe you would stoop so damn low.
I had to get rid of it, torn to shreds, obliterated
from existence.  Your one paragraph letter of
apology for how you treated me while we grew
up.  Not believed, not accepted