it's been three years. three versus the eight we were together. i started to write volumes about the way in which you ruined my life. how in eight years, from the time i was a teenager into my young adulthood, you accomplished thoroughly stripping me of any sense of self, any pride, any worth. how i came to worship you more than a god. i couldn't even look out the window unless you felt it was ok. i couldn't make eye contact with people, whether passing them on the street or engaged in a conversation with them, unless you felt it was appropriate.

that hurt me more than the hitting, slapping and other physical "fights" and "beatings." it hurt more than finding the local ho-rat in the bed my grandmother gave to me, in the apartment that i worked to afford. it hurt more than you bragging to all your boys in the barrio that you beat me, and that you're honest enough to admit it which therefore makes you a cooler, better human being than the rest of us.

It hurt me more than realizing that you never loved me at all. that in all honesty you somehow needed me to support you and for you to kick around. what hurt the most leaving you and starting to define things for myself.

you messed me up pretty good you did.

it's easier now that i know what love is. now i know for sure that i didn't love you, and now it's ok that you didn't love me. i'm sorry. i was young and crazy, you were older and dashing in that hopelessly juvenile "bad boy" sort of way. but you may find comfort in knowing that even today, i am constantly struggling against you, wanting subconscioussly to out-succeed you, you are my antithesis, my nemesis of being. i still care about you so much that i almost hate you.

almost hate you. in that you are always in my heart, in my mind and in most things i know and do. there are so many things we did together that are still a part of me. the time we made resin looney tune displays. The gallery shows the relentless schmoozing. shooting up with P. and barfing in his yard next to the pool. The times working on the cars. The drive-bys we witnessed. The late night excursions to the pantry. The systematic extermination of our unborn children. even judging women. i swear i wondered for a moment if you made me into a lesbian.

You are with me always. let me re-iterate, i do still almost hate you for this. But i still acknowledge you as a force in my life. a standard to go against. a point of view that i must break with the creation of my life, and my family with my true love. so, with that said, i must thank you. THANK YOU for tearing me down. because i was stronger and I'm still here. and someday i will outgrow your influence, i will transcend all that you taught me, all that we experienced together. i wish you well...

[submitted 04/25/02]