Letters to Luke
Along with journaling, I started writing letters to Luke. They were my way of talking to him. I never had any intention of sending them or sharing them with him. In these letters I said to him everything I knew I would never be able to say to him in real life. I allowed myself to be completely open and vulnerable because he would never read them. These letters go along with my journal entries from In Which I Revisit Adolescence:
Serenity and I watched a movie this evening. A man and a woman were friends. Toward the end the man admitted that he loved her but she was in love with someone else. That just reminded me of When Harry Met Sally. I’ve always agreed with Sally that yes, men and women could be just friends. I’m so angry that I now agree with Harry. Sex always gets in the way. And frankly, it pisses me off!
Since I’ve decided this is a letter I’ll never show you, I can admit that I think about what it would be like to make love with you entirely too much. And frankly, that pisses me off too! I don’t want to wonder that about you. There are too many obstacles. And I’m afraid I’ll hurt you or that (more than likely) you’ll hurt me because you won’t think of me this way. I can’t imagine you sitting in your house obsessing about me, having your fingers itch to touch me, running scenarios through your head about seeing me again. I can’t imagine anyone thinking about me in that way.
But here I sit, wanting you. I know I’ve built this up in my mind to something that it just isn’t. I want to make it stop but I don’t know how. I want to get to know you. Texts can only get us so far. I want to talk to you on the phone. I want to spend time with you.
I want to know if you’re a player. You talk big. You sound like you get around and, dammit, that pisses me off too! I don’t want to feel like this because I know it isn’t real! It is made from “what ifs” and from you being so far away. You are 100% safe.
And the thing that pisses me off the most is that sometimes I want to call you, invite you down, and just have you fuck my brains out. Maybe that will stop the obsessing! If I can keep it just about sex then I don’t have to risk my heart.
Please get out of my head. I need to stop thinking about you. I just don’t know how to do that.
I was so miserable with missing Luke. The no contact order had been in place for a month. I was doing so well in school and that took up so much of my time, along with parenting, that I didn’t have time to really think about him very much.
But every night and every morning, laying in bed, Luke was there. I missed how he could make me laugh. I missed the thrill I got with some of his naughtier texts. I was still so torn as to whether I would ever be able to do the things we talked about. I know I felt safe texting like that with him because I’d made it so clear that I was broken and would never have sex again.
I didn’t start working on the sexual healing side of things until after I’d had to cut contact with Luke. He had no idea I was starting to heal.
The day after that letter, I wrote this one to him:
I have to say good-bye. I can’t do this to myself anymore. I need to erase you from my brain just as I erased you from my phone. It’s been one month and I just can’t keep thinking about you every day. I need some perspective and I can’t get that with you occupying my thoughts.
This is where The Three Musketeers make their appearance. They worked a lot of over-time in those first days. Surprisingly, once I got through about four days, my thoughts of Luke were fewer and farther between. Two weeks later, I wrote Luke another letter:
Well, that didn’t last long. I let myself think about you on Fridays and for a few minutes every Saturday and Sunday mornings.
There have been a few times I’ve really wanted to call you. Last Friday night Bubba had the kids and I was processing a ton of stuff. It was hard and I just wanted to talk to you. Arcadia offered to text and ask you to call my house number but I resisted the temptation. I can’t wait until this is over and I can have my own life. It’s just not fair. Bubba is living with another woman (and you can bet your life that he isn’t celibate!) but I can’t even text you? I want his abuse totally out of my life. Sadly, I’m going to have to live with it for another decade until Liam turns 18.
But I let myself think about you because I need hope. I need to be able to dream. Yeah, I’ve probably built this up in my head, but right now, it works for me. I guess it comes down to me not being able to imagine anyone having feelings for me in that way. I find it sad that I can’t imagine a man falling in love with me and putting me ahead of himself. How fucked up is that? I don’t know if I’ll ever believe a man could love me that much.
It took me two weeks but I finally found a balance that worked for me. I got to the point where thoughts of Luke didn’t even enter my mind except those times that I’d decided to think about him. I was finally in a place where I could have that hope that I needed by thinking about him at set times but I was getting on with my life during the other times of the weeks.
Our next court date was fast approaching but the children and I had one more obstacle to get through first – our psychological evaluations (tomorrow’s post).