(no subject)
Apr. 14th, 2007 10:43 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
dedra.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseWell, although I'm not as pleased with this one as I usually am the things that I write, I tried something different this week...I tried to rewrite it but it didn't work that way either...oh well, can't always be perfect...or satisfied with what you do...
Title: Keeping Score
Pairing: No specific
Fandom: No specific
Rating: T for mentions of domestic violence
Summary: When one is keeping count, there comes a time to clear the slate and cut your losses...
I should begin this letter with dear, but unfortunately you are not dear to me any more than I am to you. I will spare us both the embarrassment of pretending affection where there is none left.
I realize now that I should have never married you. That was my fatal flaw, my ultimate mistake—beyond believing your lies and listening to your constant bluster. I knew from the minute that I said the words I do that I didn’t, wouldn’t, and never would. Still, I kept the vows that we spoke and still do, although they are a lie.
Love you? Never. Honor you? Only in such a manner that keeps me from broken bones and loose teeth. Cherish you? Oh, yes—just like you cherish me. However, my form of cherish has more to do with keeping your beer cold and your food hot and giving in to your baser desires. Better that than the alternative. I can only run in to so many doors, have so many falls down the stairs before there are more questions than I can answer.
You call me dreamy and tell me that I have my head in the clouds. You tell me that I can never be any good at what I want to do with my life and constantly niggle at my self-confidence and esteem.
I could ask why, but I won’t because I know the reason.
You have never had any hope or aspirations. I would even wager that half of the words that I’m using are too many syllables for you to understand and you’ll have to take it to your sister for an explanation. All you ever wanted to be was a mechanic and that’s all that you have the aptitude to do. I could call you inbred or redneck or any number of epithets, but instead I will just call you what you are. Without ambition, without prospect, without any drive to better yourself.
I could continue this mental abacus of faults, checks and balances. However, I feel that this is futile. Futility is not something that I want to make the center of my life. That’s why I think it best to get out of this farcical marriage and cut my losses. You can have it all—the trailer, the car, the truck, anything that we have gathered in our short time together as husband and wife. Like I would want any reminders of the one time I sold myself short? Fat chance.
I will take my computer, although it rankled you every minute that I spent on it, and my notebooks. What few clothes you allowed me to buy while we were married. The things that I brought into this home that I thought we could build together until you showed your true colors.
Just some advice for the future, however. Don’t treat a woman like property, because she isn’t. She is a precious part of your life, not your servant, your whore, your punching bag, or your party buddy. Don’t make yourself out as something you’re not. You’ll never own your own shop because you don’t have the mental faculties to run a business. There are workers and there are doers, and you are definitely a worker.
One more don’t. Don’t try to find me. I’ve left not only this town, but this state as well and I’ll be damned if I do anything to give it away where I’m going. Far away from you and your family, that’s for sure. My momma and daddy don’t even know where and there’s already a restraining order in front of the judge on their behalf.
Use your head, Teddy. Just give it up and let me go because I’m already gone.
Title: Keeping Score
Pairing: No specific
Fandom: No specific
Rating: T for mentions of domestic violence
Summary: When one is keeping count, there comes a time to clear the slate and cut your losses...
I should begin this letter with dear, but unfortunately you are not dear to me any more than I am to you. I will spare us both the embarrassment of pretending affection where there is none left.
I realize now that I should have never married you. That was my fatal flaw, my ultimate mistake—beyond believing your lies and listening to your constant bluster. I knew from the minute that I said the words I do that I didn’t, wouldn’t, and never would. Still, I kept the vows that we spoke and still do, although they are a lie.
Love you? Never. Honor you? Only in such a manner that keeps me from broken bones and loose teeth. Cherish you? Oh, yes—just like you cherish me. However, my form of cherish has more to do with keeping your beer cold and your food hot and giving in to your baser desires. Better that than the alternative. I can only run in to so many doors, have so many falls down the stairs before there are more questions than I can answer.
You call me dreamy and tell me that I have my head in the clouds. You tell me that I can never be any good at what I want to do with my life and constantly niggle at my self-confidence and esteem.
I could ask why, but I won’t because I know the reason.
You have never had any hope or aspirations. I would even wager that half of the words that I’m using are too many syllables for you to understand and you’ll have to take it to your sister for an explanation. All you ever wanted to be was a mechanic and that’s all that you have the aptitude to do. I could call you inbred or redneck or any number of epithets, but instead I will just call you what you are. Without ambition, without prospect, without any drive to better yourself.
I could continue this mental abacus of faults, checks and balances. However, I feel that this is futile. Futility is not something that I want to make the center of my life. That’s why I think it best to get out of this farcical marriage and cut my losses. You can have it all—the trailer, the car, the truck, anything that we have gathered in our short time together as husband and wife. Like I would want any reminders of the one time I sold myself short? Fat chance.
I will take my computer, although it rankled you every minute that I spent on it, and my notebooks. What few clothes you allowed me to buy while we were married. The things that I brought into this home that I thought we could build together until you showed your true colors.
Just some advice for the future, however. Don’t treat a woman like property, because she isn’t. She is a precious part of your life, not your servant, your whore, your punching bag, or your party buddy. Don’t make yourself out as something you’re not. You’ll never own your own shop because you don’t have the mental faculties to run a business. There are workers and there are doers, and you are definitely a worker.
One more don’t. Don’t try to find me. I’ve left not only this town, but this state as well and I’ll be damned if I do anything to give it away where I’m going. Far away from you and your family, that’s for sure. My momma and daddy don’t even know where and there’s already a restraining order in front of the judge on their behalf.
Use your head, Teddy. Just give it up and let me go because I’m already gone.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-16 01:07 am (UTC)Thank you. You don't have to comment...
I appreciate your comment, though...it was beautiful and it spoke to some doubts that I've been having recently...thank you.
♥