Why did you do what you did? Why did you come into our lives and tip the scales of a delicate balance that was slipping away anyway? Under what mindset did you come to us?
I don’t understand. Even if my mother was fair game, if a fellow adult female was someone who could handle it and all was fair in love and war, what about me? What about my brother? You MET us. You TALKED to us. What on earth was going through your head at that time? Was there tearing guilt that you turned a blind eye to for whatever reasons you needed to? Or had your life been so traumatic that you believed it was simply a matter of time and we would come across much worse than anything you could do anyway? I just don’t understand. And now that I think about it, I really want to, and I’ve always wanted to.
I don’t blame you for what happened to us in the aftermath. Sure, your appearance tipped the scales and sparked the change, but if you hadn’t, something else would have eventually. Everything that happened to us and the struggles we had to face afterwards were realities that already existed, but your appearance brought to the surface. In fact, I now feel a bit of pity for homewreckers, since the term implies that beforehand a home was happy and perfect and they were the ones who came in and wrecked it all. The reality is that they, like you, simply wrecked an illusion of a happy home that had long since fallen apart.
But that being said, I still don’t understand how you were able to do it. Because I guess even if WE knew deep down we were no longer a whole, YOU didn’t know. YOU weren’t aware.
Or were you? Maybe that was it then? Did my father feed you lies about being trapped in an unhappy home that only you could save? Were you told that not only could you attain happiness by being here, that you would bring happiness to all those involved as well? Is that what you believed? Did you really, truly believe it?
But then that one time with my mother, what were you doing? Was it then that you realized you were just an excuse, a disposable refuge my father would escape to for a fleeting moment, but would never make a real part of his life? Did you feel just as wronged as you realized (or probably knew all along) my mother had been? Did you think you had an ally in your bitter resentment? I don’t remember the timeline for this, but if that had indeed happened in those last couple of months, I guess that was probably it.
And well, where are you now I wonder? We found out a little bit about your past, and I can see that, at the very least, you were no happier than us. Did you find your happiness? Did you find a place to belong? I hope you did, or I hope you do, because even with all the pain and the destruction that your appearance caused to us, we are thankful. We really are you know. And, though you may not believe it, my mother most of all. I used to think I had let it go just as much as she had, but from this letter I’d say maybe not. But the last time I wrote someone a letter I should have written, I did leave them behind. So maybe it’s time now. Maybe with this I will finally be done. And maybe making peace with this is the first step to taking on the new threat that’s arisen. Don’t worry, she’s not a homewrecker like you (we took care of that after you left, albeit wayyy long after), she’s something way scarier.
Anyway, I do sincerely hope you’re well. Everyone deserves happiness, and while it may not have been your intention, you did certainly bring us happiness in the end. Well, not my father yet, actually, so maybe you got your revenge after all. Still, it was all for the best, and even if I might never know why or how you did what you did, thank you very, very much for it. Sure, you wrecked a home. You wrecked a home so we could build it better again.
Open-minded and understanding,