What would I say to you?

 We never got to talk. Not really. 

When I look back, I don't know how many of our conversations were real. You were always hiding the most important bits from me. So can I ever say that it was real? 

You moved. I don't know where you are now. 

It wasn't as though I was ever going to go back to your house, try to have a conversation again. You were so horrible to me when I tried before. I wasn't planning to make that mistake again. But I did feel comfort knowing that the option was there - thinking that maybe there could be some sort of closure. Now, there's only a great void. A physical chasm that's become as significant as the emotional and psychological chasm between us.  

When I look back, I'm inclined towards the best memories. But that isn't honest, is it? The betrayal was a more significant portion of time, and portion of my life. It crashed my world, and ultimately stole my work and career, my financial security and peace of mind. It wrecked me for so long. I can't ever think through that clearly (I never was able to) because it's so imbued with feelings of terror and shame. Whenever I'm triggered into those memories, it takes me days to recover. 

I'm trying to finish this most recent novel. I'm stuck on the final chapters - because I've written myself into a literary eqivalence and I can't find resolution in the book because I can't find my personal resolution. And this pisses me off. My writing is the one thing I feel some control over and enthusiasm for. I hate the idea that you'll fuck this up for me too. 

So, what would I say to you? If you were able to actually receive my words, instead of those horrible things you did in real life? The lying, the denials, the gaslighting ("nobody has ever harmed you. You were never harmed.") Fuck that. Every time I tried to talk to you, I was dissociated and could hardly speak. Even if you were to behave kindly, I doubt I could say anything I mean. You're just too unsafe for me to be honest with you. 

The only thing I can do is imagine a scenario where you and I could have a real conversation. What would I say to you? 

It's been bad. What you did was really bad for me. I'm afraid to start describing everything that happened because I can't bear the thought of your apathy or derision about it.  I don't trust you - even this imaginary version of you. So I'll keep this part to myself for right now. 

What I really want to say is: I miss you. I miss being able to be around you and feeling like I would burst for happiness. I miss your thoughts and the way your mind worked. I miss your charismatic humor - and how every time we were together, it felt like the beginning of an amazing adventure. 

I miss who I was in those days when I trusted you. I was a different person. Happy. Passionate. I wanted to protect you, to protect us, to be the best and most ethical version of myself - to help you be the best and most ethical version of yourself, too. 

I wish we'd been able to have all those things we imagined. I wish I'd been able to make love to you every day for the past decade. I wish we'd had children together. That dream was so real to me for so long, I couldn't tolerate the contrast with what you had actually done. 

I wish I hadn't lost such a significant part of myself when I lost you. It's like a chunk of my soul got carved out, that I gave it to you, and I've never been able to get it back. I think that's why I'm so upset to think that I can't know where you are now. You have that portion of my soul, and it feels unbearable to not know where it is. 

I wish you had chosen differently. That's all. I don't know why you didn't. I'm inclined to think that it was some sort of moral weakness on your part - but maybe that's harsh and judgmental. Maybe it was just a calculation to you and you felt like you had too much to lose.  Or maybe you were like me - so traumatized that the walls went up involuntarily and you couldn't feel anything or be in touch with the person you'd been when you were with me.