memories, relationships, Wyatt

An Open Letter to “Wyatt”


To whom it may concern;

The last time we spoke was against my better judgement, but in 2012, after not being in contact for 13 or so years, there you were. Your name was on my computer screen and I didn’t know what else to do but say “Hi.”

I found out you were seeing someone, but you told me you were “still in love with” me. I guess at least one thing was still the same. I could see you still weren’t faithful, but what I couldn’t ascertain was this – were you still abusive?

Did you ever grab her wrists and trap her as you screamed? Did you ever call her a whore or Slut as you slapped her across the face?

Have you ever left bruises on her arm from where you clutched so tightly your finger prints could still be seen? What about bruises on her chest? Have you ever told her she can’t speak to other men?

Have you ever made her feel worthless?

I was too afraid then to ask these questions. Even though you were a few states away – far enough that you couldn’t hurt me again – I was still too afraid to contradict your memories.

You said you still loved me and that we’d be together now if distance hadn’t torn us apart. You were so certain, but you didn’t even know me anymore. I told you this. You said “Yes, I do.” That sent a chill down my spine.

You never knew me, Wyatt. I let myself be someone I wasn’t so that I could make you happy; so that I could avoid being hurt.

You hurt me, Wyatt. You scarred the way I’ve dealt with men. For a long time I had a hard time pushing down the feeling of intimidation when with other boys and men. For a long time I let myself get lost as I tried to please my partners over my own wishes.

For 16 years I never told anyone about what you put me through. For 16 years I held my demons at bay. By the time I stopped thinking directly about you I had developed knee-jerk emotions and reactions that I couldn’t control so easily. It was a struggle to keep my stoic nature. But I did it. I didn’t let my true emotions show with many of the men in my life.

I heard a little later that you married that lady. I wonder now… Do you ever treat her like you treated me when you were 16?



2 thoughts on “An Open Letter to “Wyatt””

    1. Me too, and the sad fact is the only way I got out was because my family moved to a different continent! I would have been trapped a lot longer than I care to admit if I hadn’t have left when I did. Only had the courage to break it off after I was out of the country. Phew, dodged a bullet there, I tell ya. Possibly quite literally.

      Liked by 1 person

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