I’ve been mentally demanding an apology from M for weeks. My inner anger ball, with angry tenor expects it. I imagine myself plopped on a throne of some sort—golden, bedazzled—and he is kneeling before me. Repeating that he’s sorry. Hands folded in prayer.

Here is another truth about Ms. Dey: I often figure out how I’m feeling by talking through it. This time, the mental A-HA! erupted over turkey chili with my Mama. It isn’t him you want an apology from, she said. (And thank God, because he’ll never effing take responsibility for the situation). You want an apology from yourself.

(I’m starting to think that my Mother is right about everything). So here it goes…

Dear Jodi,

I’m sorry I let you down. I promised you that WITH HIM was where your heart belonged. Where you’d be safe. And I know you had your doubts, but I convinced you that we could mold that life, like strawberry taffy, and wrap it sweetly around your needs. And that he would support you like you supported him. Brush your tangled hair and intermittently tormented emotions. But he didn’t… and we couldn’t.

I failed you. I didn’t say QUIT soon enough. And I’m sorry. It’s my fault you hurt so deeply for so long. It’s my fault you accepted that horror in your life.

I didn’t say no when you spent weeks in bed, at your Dad’s house because you had been cast out from your own home. I forced you to rock yourself to sleep begging never to wake up. Because the reality was worse then anything you ever dreamed of. I’m sorry. I failed you.

I know you wrote your first breakup letter to M on February 24^th. You wanted to leave. I convinced you to stay. I promised you that things would get better. I promised that this was just a part of being a “partner.” That WE don’t give up that easily. I convinced you that M was your future husband. He wasn’t. I was wrong. I made a mistake.

I know you kept writing letters—once a week or so. They still sit like old, crazed, oozing, intimate photographs in our “Family” email folder. I know you kept pleading to end it. I ignored you. And I’m sorry. You deserved to be taken seriously. You deserved to have your needs honored. You deserved protection. And I failed you.

I have deservedly lost the right to make decisions on our behalf. I know this. And I accept it as my fault and as my fate. I hope someday I can gain your trust again. Believe me, I always meant well. I mean, I did it because I loved him. But I made a royal mess of our life, didn’t I? I know you are happy now… and I am relieved and grateful that my poor decisions didn’t permanently ruin you.

More than anything… I just want you to know that you did the best you could. You didn’t deserve any of it. It is not your fault. And it will never happen again. I will make it up to you.

Sincerely, Your Heart