Dear Arthur

Dear Asshole Man I Married With Perfect Love and Perfect Trust Forever and A Day:

I got a call from the diocese today that my annulment has been passed. So, in the eyes of the Catholic Church our marriage never really happened.

But it did happen. We met on December 8, 2000; we were engaged on December 10, 2002; we were married on August 9, 2003; I filed for divorce on June 12, 2012; we were divorced October 13, 2013; and on October 12, 2016, our marriage was annulled.

Our marriage did happen. I loved you and you loved me. I was young and you saw another chance at youth—an Act II. I know you didn’t mean for it to go so badly. I said my vows under God forever. And, I believe at the time you did too.

We did have good times, loving times. But there was a lot wrong too. I wanted to marry a father figure. I wanted someone to take care of me and I was willing to give up certain freedoms for that privilege.

Something went wrong. I lost my voice—or I never had one. You made your voice the only voice because you didn’t know any other way. I swallowed all the abuse and ended up with internal bleeding in the hospital because of it. You have two psychotic breaks because you never dealt with your own demons. You never really let me in and I didn’t know how to let you in. I was afraid. Afraid you’d be mad. Afraid I’d get in trouble. Afraid you’d leave me. I was afraid. You were too.

I hated my job but worked anyway. You hated your job and quit. You were as depressed as I have been—but you never faced or believed in the bi-polar trend in your family. I don’t know what you thought about all those days that I was at work and you were playing on the computer. I think you started smoking pot again because you needed something to take the edge off.

Reality is fucking scary. I hide from it. You left it for your own reality where everyone was the enemy.

You hurt me. You broke me. You went for the jugular. I fought like I’ve never fought before for our--my house because my whole world was falling apart and I needed an anchor. )I still hold onto that anchor.) I didn’t deal with the demons we created together—they took me down. Took me out. I would have loved you forever. I still do love you in a way.

But, things between us were never the same as they were before we bought the house and you had your first psychotic break. Maybe if you’d sought help—maybe if I had spoken up. We both failed in the marriage because we failed to be true to ourselves.

When I married you there was never a doubt in my mind. Not one. Perfect love and perfect trust. We both spiraled down—life did not turn out like a faerie tale. You were Arthur and I was Guenevere—but Arthur tried to burn Guenevere at the stake. Camelot fell. I was faithful to you always. Even after I filed for divorce. The ink was well dry before I dated again.

I found by stride in 2011 and you broke. Then I broke. Then we broke each other.

I’ll never forget the last nice thing you did for me. You packed all the food for me to take to Gram’s funeral. You put a little planter-stuffie ladybug in the cooler.

You freed me. You freed me from a controlling and abusive (let’s call it what it was) marriage. You changed the trajectory of my life forever. You freed me to live a different life—a “road less travelled” and I hope that makes “all the difference.”

Thank you. I forgive you. I love you. I hate you. I pray for you. I forgive you.

This annulment does not mean our marriage never happened. This annulment means that God absolved me for breaking my vows. This annulment means that I am leaving Camelot, never to return. I still bear the scars and you do too. But, there is life after Camelot.

I hope.

Forever and a Day,

Your Wife.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel.