A Formal Apology...

This is where I apologize for the post regarding the "bleach", the "those who are better than I" crap.

I shouldn't have. No really. I should have told him how his comment made me feel-instead of posting it here--for all you, my friends, my intimate strangers, to see.

All my life I have felt unworthy. Unworthy of my parents love--for I never felt it anyway. Unworthy of my first husbands attention and affection--for I never felt it anyway. Unworthy of my children's respect and love...I really F'd this up myself. Unworthy of friends. Unworthy of my sisters admiration. My grandmothers love. My Mimi's (the Aunt who raised me) love.

So, how was I to believe, that tho he wanted me to tone down the posting of my sinning and evil, wicked ways, that he TRULY loves me...just as I am. That he loves ME. Just. As. I. Am.

I am sorry, Mr X. I am sorry that I didn't talk to you. That I didn't communicate my feelings to you, how are you to know how I feel unless I speak up?? This is hard for me. I am not used to speaking my feelings. Communication isn't my strong suit. Past experiences have taught me that my feelings are of no consequnce. No one listens anyway. I should have know better. Should have know YOU are different. YOU *do* care. You do listen. You do understand. I'm sorry for what I called you last night. You aren't a hypocrite. By any stretch of the imagination.

You make me want to be a better person. I just don't know if I can do it. But I want to. I want you to be proud of me. I never want to embarass you or have you be disappointed in me--and I know you aren't. But *I* am disappointed in me. *I* am embarassed by me.

It is so hard for me to feel worthy of your love. I really am just a lost little girl. Wanting someone to love me. Someone to want me. Someone to teach me. Lead me. I am eager to please. And I hope that I'm not quick to disappoint.

I am so very sorry. I am. Please accept my appology. I hate arguing--tho we never argue. Fight--no, it wasn't even a fight. I'm sorry we...had hard feelings. Felt at odds. I love you. Please be patient with me. Please understand that I am immature. That I have a hard time communicating. That I am a sensitive creature and I read things into words that aren't there. Partly because I'm a woman (yeah, we do that) but mostly because I've NEVER had anyone love me for ME. I can't change for you. I can't. But I hope to grow for you. But you will have to be patient. Loving. And understanding. All things I know you are. All things I am grateful for.

I love you. I do. As long as the road...but not the road to Aunt Suzi's house (it's a dead end).

Always,

Martie