34th May's Road
Castleford
LO6 1AR
Dear Lara,
You still haven't sent me anything. There's been no letter from you, and you don't call either. I was really expecting a reply this time. In my last letter, I told you the truth about Denis, about how he was hardly around, how he was only a father by name. Don't you have any questions for me? Don't you want to know more?
I've given it some thought and I wonder if you're just too busy. You're a working mother, in charge of the household, and have four children to look after now. I wish I could be there to help you, just like you helped me. I find that children are better handled when they have a consistent routine. That way, they know what to expect, and more importantly, what is not allowed. I wonder if you even have time to read these letters; perhaps I am simply wasting my time.
Mind you, I'm also quite busy.
Every week, I find myself doing something new. I've taken a few cooking classes, I exercise everyday, and I've even enrolled myself into a beauty course four times a week. As I learn, I'm always reminded of little Cleo, and the makeovers she'd give her father, lipstick smudged around his lips, and eyeshadow brushed over his cheek. Denis wouldn't mind, though. He'd take a picture of each fabulous look. They are on the shared family drive, if Cleo ever wants to see them.
In fact, there are thousands of pictures on that drive. Most of them are of Aiden and Cleo during school plays, award ceremonies, fishing trips, family holidays, and there are so many of me pregnant; I looked terrible. Still, I'm glad that the children will have these memories to look back on.
There's a particular picture of me I'd like you to find. It was taken at the lakehouse Denis always rented for his fishing trips with the kids. He had persuaded me to come along that time, and as much as I had hated it, there were moments of peace. It had just stopped raining, and I walked along the trail at the back of the lakehouse, trying to find a signal so I could call Mum. I sat myself down on this giant log, and I could smell fresh grass and flowers. Everything was covered in raindrops, and the sky looked so vast and blue. My body felt lighter, time slowed down, and I stopped thinking about everything because the world was glowing and I was mesmerised.
I didn't realise Denis had followed me, the sound of his camera breaking the silence and bringing me back to reality. I looked back, and there he was, beaming at me, like he hadn't just ruined the moment.
If you manage to find the picture, I'd love to have a copy. I think it was taken a month or so before Mum passed away. Since her death, I've never felt that way again. Maybe the picture can help bring that feeling back to life.
I find myself thinking about moments like these often. I have so many memories to look back on, and I draw on them for inspriation for a creative program I attend. I write, paint and draw based on the prompt the instructor gives the class every session. Sometimes, we're even instructed to create a piece of drama. The most recent prompt was "love" and believe it or not, before I thought of you, or our parents, or even my own children, I thought about Denis.
I had stood before my drama partner, and the rest of the class, and I simply erupted. I opened up years and years of heartbreak that I'd kept bottled inside of me. Denis was there, Lara. He appeared right before my very eyes, and I began to shout at him.
"Where were you?" I'd said, glaring at him. "Where were you when I needed you? Do I not matter to you, Denis? Do my needs not matter? Why can't you make me happy? I should have never married you!" I had continued to scream, stepping closer, my hands tightened into fists. My nails dug into my flesh, but the pain only made me angrier. "You don't get to run away. I won't let you get away with this. You're useless. You're so useless. I don't need you anymore. I'll let you leave. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Go! Go!"
I was stopped in the middle of my performance, pulled away from my partner and taken outside. I saw the whole class looking at me like I'd gone insane. I felt fulfilled, in a way, because that is exactly what I intended to convey. I had been so unhappy, neglected by my own husband for so long, that with each passing day, I felt like I was losing myself, my sanity and my chance at happiness. Or maybe my moment of madness was when I finally decided to do something about it.
I've been asked to take a break from the creative program for a while. I do hope I can return soon; I found the whole thing quite therapeutic.
Did you also find my performance insane, Lara?
It was not insanity. It was a true reflection of how I felt after years and years of suffering and frustration by the hand of someone I loved. It wasn't an easy decision to leave. Eventually I realised that no amount of endurance, compromise or forgiveness could ever save my marriage.
You must think it's impossble because there were no signs, no proof that I was unhappy. You don't believe me, do you? Is that why you don't write back to me?
I can't say I blame you. I did my best to take on the burden of both our roles, so much so, that you wouldn't have noticed how frequently Denis was missing. You wouldn't have been alarmed at how absorbed he was with his work. He spent more time with his Boss, his colleagues and his clients, their favour more important to him than mine.
If you don't believe me, then surely you'll believe the children? Then you'll see just how hard I worked to keep our family together. But I do not regret it, because my efforts kept everyone happy for a time. We were happy.
And then Denis that ruined everything.
Time for the next truth, Lara.
Denis... he wanted to separate.
It's been three years since he served me the divorce papers, and I remember the moment so vividly. We'd been fighting almost everyday then. One moment, we're be fine, the next, he's screaming at me, calling me crazy and selfish. The night before, we'd had our worst fight yet, and I had just gotten the kids into the car. I needed a break and decided to spend the weekend with you and your family. I had thought we'd be fine after some time apart. I was foolish enough to go back to the house, so I could tell Denis where we were going, and that I wanted to talk about how to save our marriage when I came back home that Sunday.
I hadn't even gotten a foot into the door when he threw the divorce papers at me. I looked at the first page and then threw them back at his face. Do you remember when you opened your door to find only Aiden and Cleo standing outside, with their innocent, smiling faces, ignorant of what had just happened between their parents?
You didn't know either, of course. You kept calling me to see where I was, but I didn't answer. Instead, I texted you that I'd forgotten something at home and I'd be right back. But the truth is that I didn't want you to know. I was scared that you'd look at me, or hear my voice, and figure it all out straight away. I spent our whole lives keeping secrets, and telling you only what I wanted you to know, and yet, on that day, I felt so transparent and overwhelmed. I would have told you the moment you smiled at me.
If I had stood there that day with my children, instead of running away and hiding my shame, maybe things might have been different. If I had let myself be weak in front of you, Lara, do you think you could have saved me?
Even after that day, Denis and I still fought. It got worse, actually.
One evening, he grabbed me by my arms and shoved me against the wall. I was not in pain, but my pride was wounded. I can still feel the shock of what happened, and the cold wall against my back. Denis hadn't even realised what he'd done. He continued to argue, cupping my face, his eyes searching my face desperately.
I'm still not sure what he was looking for. But that one moment defined everything. I realised Denis wanted to break me down, to intimidate me and ruin me. I finally knew who my husband was. I had walked away without a word. I knew I had to leave him. Denis deprived me of everything I deserved. He didn't even let me have a peaceful goodbye.
I had to take a moment before continuing with this letter again. I still get so angry when I think about that moment. And then I feel justified in what I did to protect my children.
With each letter, I relive the moments that have defined my life, and I feel almost jaded by the time I send my love to my children, and sign my name at the bottom. I imagine you're still shocked. You're also reliving the past, wondering how you didn't see it, if you could have changed anything if you'd just noticed something. But we were never going to work, Lara. Denis was too stubborn, too selfish, and too sheltered in his own ways.
I could no longer love such a simple man.
I was always going to end things on my terms.
There was nothing you could have done. But there is so much you can do now.
I want to hear from you. I want to answer each one of your questions as best I can. I told you that I write these letters to help you, to help my children. I'll help you look through the smoke and see the cracks that have haunted our family for a long time. I won't hide them anymore.
Write soon, Lara. My children must miss me.
Ella