I never cheated
When you read this, you'll know I don't usually do this sort of thing. But in this place, they want me to talk. I'm not speaking to anyone, so I'll write. It seems I have a lot of things I need to say to you… Funny how I'm completely lost before I've even started. Give me time to mentally prepare myself…
Ok, so…
I should tell you that I never cheated.
Becoming a mother changed me more than I let anyone realise. Sure, I flirted with guys to get up your ass, and I when you implied that I ran around with anyone with a pulse, I played along with it. It was fun. It was what made you and I strong.
But I never cheated, not since I was pregnant with Jack. When I said I wanted you back, I meant it – not just for the baby. Thinking about it, we were split up for a much shorter time than it felt; being with someone like you wore on me. We wore each other down, and we once thought that meant we were wrong for each other, do you remember? Now, I realise that it meant quite the opposite.
We bounce off each other, so I don't need toy-boys or booty-calls; drunken kisses and sober flirting was quite different to cheating. Embarrassing as it is to admit, I haven't slept with anyone other than you for years, and I don't care if the same can't be said for you. I know I hurt you; I deserve anything you may have done behind my back. Except having to deal with that tattoo. What in hell's name were you thinking?
I'd like you to know that you're not easy to put up with. Your stupid corkscrew curls and your inane, unbelievable ability to destroy everything that means a damn to you never fails to annoy me. Yes, I have considered smothering you from behind while you tried to watch 'the game'. Yes, I have tried to do that. It just resulted in me being pulled over the back of the sofa and pinned down, remember? We had sex to the tune of some pathetic basketball game.
While I tried to choke you with your hockey jersey.
Ah, memories. Yet, we coped with each other. Damn Per, we coped with each other for more than two decades. I like how we don't talk about the ins and outs of why, because we don't believe anything needs to be said on the matter. Fighting works so much better for us, doesn't it? Touchy feely crap is endlessly boring. At least when we argue, I get the pleasure of your reaction.
Perhaps it's because we are both vile. Truly, Jack and Jennifer have little chance of growing to be nice people, what, with you straight-talking Jack about everything, and me planning just how to ruin Jen's chances at happiness. Or that's what we say. The other night, a few weeks back now, I heard you lie to Jack about women's breasts, despite the opening to take a jibe at mine. And I want nothing more than for our children to be happy, even if I do plan unorthodox methods to achieve this for them.
Because as long as I can give them that, they'll be fine. My interference will, no doubt, make them hate me for a little bit… well, hate me more than they probably already do, but you know what? I don't care. If hating me would make them happy, then I'll take it. It would break my heart, but I would take it.
Before, something like that would make me throw up a little in my mouth. I still pretend it does sometimes, when I hear Carla go on about her little Izzy, or DJ harping on about what he hopes for Sammy's future, because it's easier than competing. I've built myself a reputation, and I'll damned live up to it. I'm 'Dr Cox's vicious ex-wife', but oh, isn't that so much more tantalising?
But meaning as I'm talking about the people who mean most to me, I suppose I should take the opportunity to tell you to let everyone know that this vicious side will make an appearance if anyone ever even threatens any of you.
Falling pregnant did change me. I didn't want you to see that, but I know you did. I was once the most selfish person on the planet, one of the most ruthless; the other one was you. If I decided I wanted you back without being pregnant, I probably would've done everything in my power to get you, no matter who I hurt.
As it was, I settled for subtle seduction (ha) and allowed you to make the choice. This wasn't easy for me, Per; you know how I like control. And the fear that you'd chose the blonde bint nearly killed me – how was I supposed to raise a child by myself? – so for me to take such a step back was kinda a big deal.
Inside, I was flattered and overwhelmed when you found me. Your timing was pretty great; I would've gone and probably never have come back if you hadn't stopped me. I'd never have told you Jack was yours... But you did, you chose me, despite my fat ass, and the fact that I was heavily pregnant with a child that you thought was another man's. I am sorry about that Per, but I would do the same thing over and over.
I'd rather you stay mad at me for a little while than for you to forever resent me for the burden I pushed upon you… Resent me from afar. If I had come back and said, "Hey Per Per, one of your little swimmers reached the ol' fallopian tubes; what'dya say we get back together for the benefit of the brat?" I have no doubt that Jennifer would not exist, and that Jack would be shipped across town every weekend to see his Daddy. I didn't want that.
I never imagined myself playing happy families, or families at all, for that matter.
No, my not-so-mean parents never told me that I would never find a man who would put up with me because I would be an ugly chore of a woman who was nothing but a disappointment to them… I thought that. Except the ugly part – that was never really an option for me. As your credit card knows, right?
But you… oh, you were just so like me – in a dysfunctional sort of way, we fit right together. I didn't hate your company; the same could not be said about everybody I slept with. It's no secret that I become a floozy when single, and so what? Everyone needs to get their kicks somewhere, and if they can't get them from their ex-husband, who can they go to?
Security guards, land-owners, my mother's neighbour's eldest son, foreign lifeguards… really, I had my pick of guys. I did not think of you when I did them, nor did I wish it were you. But I did miss you afterwards. Your post-sex banter was always the most… entertaining. As was your pre-sex banter.
And your during sex banter, for that matter.
But sex stopped being the be all and end all for us, didn't it? I am playing happy families. We don't fight in front of the kids anymore, meaning yes, the sex is better later. But it's such a small thing for us now, isn't it? At the risk of being jinxed, we are happy. Jack isn't the perfect little boy – he's just a little boy. Jennifer isn't the perfect little baby - she cries until five in the morning sometimes – but she is just a little baby. But they are ours, and screw anyone who doesn't approve of them.
Oh, but if this is the case, please feel free to take it up with their mommy.
Or their daddy.
Or both.
There is no point to what I'm saying, Per. I suppose I just realised how much I had to say to you, how many things I could never say aloud. I never tell you I love you without being cryptic or sarcastic, but I do. I know you'll read this – they'll all read this, so if there are black lines at certain points throughout this letter, my apologies – and I hope you know that I am still in my right mind. And if they say I have to stay in here forever, then damn it Perry, you raise our children the best you can, and piss to what everyone else says. You're a good father.
It seems I couldn't be a great mother, the great mother you once said I was. But when I get out of here, I'll be better for them. When they realise that keeping me here is completely unnecessary, I'll come home and I'll make sure to be that mother again.
Until then, keep them happy. Raise them right – not to be soft-ass pushovers, but respected, good people – and for God's sake, spend time with them. Don't downward spiral, but keep strong for them, or I will kill you before you have chance to destroy yourself. Ha, I suppose that'll get a nice black line through it. But it was a threat, Per Per.
Just promise you'll do right by them, and yourself.
And I promise I'll see you soon.
Jordan.
