I had a nightmare involving S (my ex-wife) on Wednesday night. I forgot to write about it because I’ve been too preoccupied with my name change.
I know that I probably shouldn’t write about her, mainly because I’m scared that she will find this blog one day and will think that I haven’t let go. But I can’t not write about her. Of all the people that have come and gone from my life since childhood, she is by far the most important to me and the one in which I shared a strong bond with. Nobody knew me as much as S did, not even my own family. I’ve loved others, but not in the same way or with the same intensity. I don’t think she ever believed that I loved her, because during few time we were together, I was unable to show it and we were living as roommates rather than soulmates. I remember the day in the early summer of 2011, when a particularly toxic ex of mine decided to track S down on Facebook and tell her about me. But even before that, we were most likely going to split up. S had asked for a separation just a few weeks prior.
I often think to myself that we could have had a wonderful lifelong relationship had it not been for my gender identity or our mental illnesses. I can still see another version of S and I in another dimension, living happily ever after in New England with 2 kids and us both being writers, doing what we love, rather than trapped in dead and jobs that we both hated. We would be financially comfortable, but not rich. And in the same dimension, our families would be loving and supportive. We would take the kids to the UK every year to see my parents. We would take trips down to Florida 3-4 times a year to see S’s parents and her brother. Our kids would go off to college and we’d grow old together.
While I don’t give a damn about myself, I do care about S and I always found it so hard to see her in pain. Not only was I helpless, but my issues actually made it worse for her. In my last but one email to S, I told her that while I am glad that I found her and had her in my life for as long as I did, I wish she’d never have met me, for her sake. I did not mean to hurt her, but it was inevitable. I betrayed her trust in me and became just like everyone else who had betrayed her trust in the past.
I don’t want her forgiveness and I will never forgive myself for this. I took away 9 years of her life. In those 9 years, she could’ve met someone better and gone to school. She would never have been burdened with me or my issues.