I probably shouldn’t have opened the email. But once I did, I couldn’t stop reading and rereading it, to the point where I could recite some parts of it verbatim.
"I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when you broke up with me.
Now, I have to admit that what you said was a heavy load to carry: that you didn’t like the person I became around my friends...sarcastic, bitchy, overly dramatic...and because of that, you didn’t want to be with me anymore. It’s a wonder I wasn’t completely knocked out by it. I wanted to believe it was a joke, some kind of irony, but you never really got irony. And there was a rawness to your voice..a tone that was sharp, menacing, not at all like the usual dull, nasal tone I knew.
I admit, I reacted over the top. There’s a difference between a basic outburst and the kind I threw. But what’s done is done, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself now. I raised my voice to an uncomfortable level, and there were the insults, tossed out in front of a crowd in the grocery store. To defend myself, though, you could have chosen a better setting than that. Still, I regret every word. You weren’t dumb, as I repeatedly called you, and I shouldn’t have compared your intelligence to a bowling pin, compost, or flan. I insulted your work, too, belittling your ambition and effort, which was wrong, cruel, and elitist. Someone has to dig those clams. Dinners depend on them. It’s a job that requires strength, stamina, and is far more meaningful to the world than what I do.
I remember attacking your masculinity, too. Criticizing you for having such a well-endowed body. It’s like taunting someone for being too handsome or too generous. Then I flipped it, insulting you for thinking your physical traits were your only worth. I said something along those lines. Whatever I said, it wasn’t the person I wanted to be, and it’s not who I want to be now. The truth is, I still miss you...and all the individual parts of you.
I think I even got physical. Did I pull your hair? God, please tell me I didn’t. You had such beautiful hair, and I have so little of it myself. No one tried to stop me, though...because when two men fight in a grocery store, especially a couple, no one wants to get involved. If anything, people probably assumed you weren’t in real danger, especially since I’m shorter than you. They probably just wanted us to disappear so they could get back to their shopping, especially when I lowered my insults to your smell, comparing your breath to farm waste and your private area to a freshly tarred road.
I regret leaving the store without you, too, seeing as we had come in my car. Later, I realized how absurd it was...thinking of you walking home in the dark, dodging cars and upsetting drivers.
I cringe now when I remember how I went to small claims court over the cable bill. I don’t even watch TV, and you definitely do. How can I not cringe at my texts, emails, and prank calls pretending to be your aunt burning in Hell?
But the thing I regret the most is how cold and distant I was when you came back to ask for forgiveness weeks later.
That took real bravery, especially after how I’d insulted you. Who shows up at their ex’s house like that? At least not without a gun. I was confused at first..after all, you had already paid the cable bill I’d been pushing for, without needing the court’s intervention. And while I didn’t gloat or sneer this time, while I didn’t try to make you grovel, I couldn’t summon any kindness. I wasn’t polite, sentimental, philosophical, or melancholic...I wasn’t the ex-lover who’d matured. I just let you speak, giving no indication I was really listening, though I was. I couldn’t help but feel a twisted satisfaction in seeing you push forward despite the coldness in my eyes.
Looking back, I realize how significant it was that you took full responsibility..that you owned it, as you put it. You admitted that breaking up with me wasn’t about me, or us, as a couple. It was about your childhood and your inability to trust that someone would love you without hidden motives. You told me it was about your unpredictable mother and your harsh father. And during your sweet, self-reflecting confession, I felt my heart wanting to jump out of my chest, wanting to wrap around you. In those moments, I was more in love with you than ever before. Maybe you could see through the indifference in my eyes, seeing that I was trying to forget the past and wanting to hold you close again. But instead, I let you speak your piece, and I didn’t forgive you. I didn’t take you back. Eventually, you left with as much grace as anyone could manage in those circumstances.
Now, I realize those moments showed me the difference between us. You can act badly, own up to it, reflect on it, and try to be better. Whoever you’re with now..if you have someone..will benefit from that. Meanwhile, I’m alone, except for my fantasies. And all I can do is scribble a few words of apology at a time, compose an email, and try to stay ahead of my relentless regret".
I knew there’d be no reply from me. I only wondered if I should save the email, considering how much harm it could cause.