CHAPTER 92

WHY WASN'T I GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?

The very next morning after writing the letter, Angie woke up with a headache. She had heard American people say "Sleep on it" so many times, when it came to making a huge decision and taking your time to do it, so she took that a bit too literally.

Her hand flew under the pillow and she retrieved the few folded pieces of paper that she had written on, the night before. She had folded them in three, ready to be put inside of an envelope. There was no way she would unfold them or even read this mess of a 'letter' one more time. She knew she would cry if she did so. Moreover, she knew she would never have the guts to send it out if she ever laid eyes on it again.

While Bryan was taking his morning shower, Angie searched for that envelope she had received a few weeks back, with some documents about the Academy. She stuck her own letter inside, dumping out the documents and striking out the things that were written on the outside of the envelope with thick black pen, until it was just a thick line of darkness. She sighed, finding it this much harder to now put the recipients real full name on the envelope. This felt wrong on so many levels. She knew she was going to hurt this person, but she also knew she had to put herself first. And, if Monkey was smart, they would figure out the real message, behind this mess of a letter.

Angie hadn't made it super finite. There was a little door that she left unlocked, so maybe in the future it could be opened. But, on her end, she was scared to do it. She was confused about this person and she needed to let them know, if not out of integrity, then out of respect. They had reached out twice, but Angie hadn't written back yet.

"Tell Dan and the trainer that I'm out on my morning jog." She instructed Bryan when he got out of the shower and saw her dressed up and ready to leave without him.

"I'll later say I was jogging and I lost track of time, so I'll just roll up to the training field with a few minutes of delay." She added before she was out the door.

Ten minutes later she was at the reception desk at the main building.

"Hello, where can I find the mailman?" Angie asked the girl behind the desk.

The girl called someone and a few minutes later a guy showed up.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you and I will pay cash for your services, but this is an urgent matter and it cannot wait. I'm a Trainee here and I can't find the time to go to an actual post office to post this. Would you, please, be kind enough to do me a favor and deliver this in person?" She asked sweetly.

Luckily for her, the guy was completely mesmerized by the beauty of her green eyes, so he understood little of what she said before he held his hand out and let her put the envelope in it.

"How soon can you deliver this?" She asked, handing him twenty dollars very discretely.

He briefly checked the recipient's name and address before replying.

"Five minutes." He said, still drooling over her beauty.

"Thank you so much!" Angie blew him a kiss and she ran out of the main building.

She made it to her training at the moment it was starting, so she didn't even manage to get in trouble for being late. Bryan sure looked relieved, but Dan gave her a quizzical look. This was the girl who was always early, for any type of training, any class at all, except for Tactical Driving. Everyone knew how much she hated that.


A knock on the door startled Monkey as they sat in their office, early in the morning. Who could it possibly be? They were there early, to get a jump start on something connected to work and surely nobody they worked with would be there at this hour.

"I'm sorry to bother you…" The young mailman murmured when he walked in. "There is a direct delivery for you. Have a good day."

Monkey took the envelope in their hands and their heart skipped a beat. This was her handwriting, Angie's handwriting.

They set the documents aside. Those could wait. The envelope, on the other hand, was a pressing matter they had to tend to right away.

Unluckily for them, their office phone rang. Ten minutes and the call was done, but then an e-mail came. And then another one. And then they realized they had a dozen e-mails to reply to, from the previous day. Every little setback took time and it was urgent, so Monkey kept on postponing until the worst happened – their colleagues started arriving, acting all cheerful, discussing the smallest everyday life thigs and grabbing their second coffee of the day.

Monkey had to join them, this is what they always did. Not doing so would surely raise suspicions. But what about the letter? They were itching to open and read it, analyze every word, profile every dot, every letter, every space between the words. A lot was at stakes.

The morning was busy, they had meetings to attend and people to go see. The letter was in their purse at all times, but it had been unopened.

Monkey tried to get away from the group lunch that day, but it was not happening. One of their colleagues had a crazy story to tell and they really wanted Monkey to be there, too. There goes their attempt to sneak out and go read their letter while everyone else was grabbing Mexican food at their favorite restaurant.

After lunch Monkey was hit with more papers to review and little tasks to do, with different members of their team. To top it all – they had to stay late that night, as they had a late meeting with someone and they had to prepare for that. So, there was absolutely no time for the letter.

Long after the sun had set, Monkey returned to their office, feeling exhausted from the day and stressed out about the letter. They kicked their shoes off and sat back in their chair after making sure there wasn't a single person left on the floor where their team worked at. It was just Monkey and the darkness – just the way they liked it.

Suddenly feeling a bit chilly, Monkey put a blazer on top of their smart shirt, but it didn't make much difference. Their only hope was that some miracle would happen and they would feel warmth when they'd open and read that letter. That, however, was hardly going to be the case.

Monkey took a huge sip of water, to stabilize their emotions, before they even dared to open the envelope. Inside there were multiple papers and they sighed in pain, as this was an indication of a long way of explaining how much the person who wrote this letter hated Monkey.

With a loud sigh, Monkey started reading, holding the first paper with one hand while crossing their fingers, with the other. They could not imagine a world, without this young girl in it. They had lived in denial, in compete silence, for so many years. Nobody knew. Nobody needed to know. Monkey knew and Angela knew, that was enough for them.

Monkey knew this would not be an easy read, but they were not even remotely prepared for what would hit them. From the first few lines they could already tell this was a huge emotional downpour and there was no structure, no clarity, no full sentences and no perfection to it. That was precisely what made it the perfect letter, in their eyes.

Monkey's eyes scanned the papers greedily before they continued reading. They could imagine Angie writing this, surely it would have been written in the dark. Monkey knew Angie well enough to know that the dark relaxed her, she felt more in her element.

They couldn't even imagine how hard it must have been for Angie to come up with this text, to write down the first thoughts that popped in her mind. But it was perfect. It was honest. It was brutal, at times. But it was perfect. And it hurt so damn much.

Monkey felt emotional just after the first line, but they tried to keep that in check. Tried and failed, anyway.

Those words were painful to read, but they had to keep in mind the pain Angie must have felt while writing them, too. Monkey hadn't only hurt Angie when they failed her. They had hurt themselves, too, making this reading process twice as painful to endure.

After the first few sentences, Monkey allowed themselves to imagine Angela saying those words out loud to them, in a soft voice, tortured voice, but very child-like and innocent. It felt like a monologue from some tragedy show at the theater. Monkey pictured Angie, in the middle of the stage, with dim lights around her, sitting on the floor, looking right into Monkey's eyes and delivering the monologue of her life. God help her, Angela was an amazing actress and Monkey knew that.

At some point Monkey was completely immersed into the theater play and she just let it all play out, as she continued reading…


ANGELA'S LETTER

Ok hi, let me start writing before I give myself another dumb reason not to!

This won't be easy. Nor pretty. My handwriting sucks. I couldn't put my thoughts into words if you paid me for it. I'm not good at any of this. But hey, I'm only human…

I went to therapy. Not because of you. Because of me. And also, because SSA Garrett literally forced me to go.

And yet, it was all because of you.

I was asked about my life, my hobbies, my home. And as much as I wanted to keep you out of it all, your damn face kept staring at me, each time I closed my eyes before giving an answer.

"Where is your home, Angela?"

"Well, my home is where Monkey is."

Don't ask. I had to give you a name, the name of an animal. But hey, at least it was a cute one this time!

Ughh…

This makes no sense. I don't know what to say…

I know you've been reaching out. But, would you have done so if I hadn't ended up at the Academy? Why now? Are you afraid you're losing me? Do you think I'm building a life, one without you? You know, kind of like what you did, after you dumped me, each time…

Yes, this was supposed to hurt. Please, be hurt! I want you to suffer, the way I did. Maybe then you'd understand what you've put me through.

I was a child…

A child who needed you…

A child you vowed to love…

To protect…

A strong, opinionated child, but a child nonetheless…

A child, who loved you more than life itself…

A child, whose whole entire life was you

You want to know why you and I worked so perfectly well together? Because we came from the same place of screwed up relationships, lives full of deceit, lies, pretending, fake identities. We both understood what we were getting ourselves into, yet we both dived into it, willing to take every blow, willing to let this pretense world ruin us. But it was okay, we had each other. We felt safe. I felt safe. I had you to protect me.

And I was a smart child, I knew there would come a time when we'd part ways. I was prepared for it, well, at least I thought I was until the moment came. It was messy and I didn't accept it well. Clearly. Come on, you really screwed me up with that stunt!

But then, I've had years to think about it and…yeah, maybe I get it. I know why you did what you did. I know you had to. And I know you saved my life, doing what you did.

But, you see, I'm only human… And I was a child. I was so incredibly hurt. I didn't understand why I wasn't good enough to have received a warning. Why did nobody tell me? Why did you just have to announce your…you know? Yeah, I've been wondering what if things were different. But we can't change things. We can only learn from them and move on…

And I did. I tried to move on. But for the longest time I felt like I was dead. Hell, I wished I was dead. And no, I did not do anything to put my life in danger, don't worry. I was a smart kid. I've been taking care of myself my whole entire life.

This is so incredibly dragged on and long so far and I've barely touched base…

My point is – I get it. I know. Whatever it is that you want me to know, I do know it. It's still hard. But I found it in me to forgive you once. I felt the joy of having you back in my life, a second time around. And it was even better than the first, because we almost got to be our real selves. Almost. But not entirely…

And yet, it was perfect. You were perfect. And I found myself falling in love with you all that much more. I loved your home cooked meals, I loved spending time with you. My best memories – no, my only memories, are the ones with you. Every other memory, I've erased from my mind. Because a memory without you, is a memory I don't need to store, as it would only take up space I could have otherwise used for other memories, ones with you. This sounds so dumb, but that's how I feel. I was obsessed with you. I loved your touch. I loved how, each time I was with you, I felt like a five year old - happy, vibrant…loved. Wanted…

I know you wanted me. I know you still do. So you can stop overcompensating with material things. Gifts won't make me forgive you again. If I had to be brutally honest, I don't think anything could. Because, as much as I love you, I have to love myself first. I grew up on my own. Life taught me to put me first. Hey, I'm only human, it's basic survival skills.

But I find it so hard to have you back now. And then, to not have you back at all. Do you understand? You are not the person who once vowed to walk me through life. You said you'd walk me down the aisle someday. I believed you. Hell, I almost started wanting to get married, just to have you by my side, to see you do good on that promise. And then you failed me. Twice…

You challenged me to profile you. Well, I already have. And I get you. I get it. All of it. But it still hurts. So. Damn. Much!

Now, why don't you profile me?

Or have you already done that, too?

Have you figured out how weak you left me in this world? How you gave me life, and then made me want to throw it all away? How I've never been able to connect to someone, after you? Have you profiled what it meant to me, all those months we spent together, the second time around? I followed you like a puppy. I studied your every move. I ate the foods you liked. I dressed in your clothes, because this is how desperate I was to be with you. Be like you. Be approved of, by you. I wanted you to see I've grown into this cool young girl, the one you've always dreamed to have…

Have you profiled why I am horrified to be myself around new people? Why I never let anyone get to know me? Have you figured out that, to me, there is no point in doing so, since I feel like everyone is just going to leave? Why waste my time? Why let my guards down? Why let someone see me, the real me, whoever the Hell she might be, when they would ultimately leave?

Why do I think they'd leave, huh…have you profiled that? Could it maybe point to me, thinking I'm never going to be good enough, no matter what character I play? Because, if the real me, the one I showed you years ago, was not good enough to make you stay, then why show her to anyone else? Why not start playing games, start pretending, use different names, live in different places, lie, deceive people, why not turn into a completely new person, repeatedly? Huh? Maybe one day, I'd find the character I should play, the one who'd be good enough…

Because I wasn't good enough for you…

Why wasn't I good enough for you?

What did I do wrong?

Please, tell me it was my fault! Blame it all on me. I beg you!

Because I cannot bear the thought of you, not being perfect enough. Not wanting me…

You are perfect!

You may lie, your past may be shady, you may be a lot of things, but you are perfect to me.

So, please, tell me it was my fault. I need to blame this on anyone, but you.

I've tried hating you.

I've blamed you for so long.

And it only left me even more confused.

Maybe it wasn't you? Maybe it was really me?

I am terrified by the thought of you being back in my life again, because I know what losing you feels like. Endless nights of pain. I cried for you! I never cry! But I've cried for you. Twice. And I never want to cry again in my life. Not even for you. I'm sorry. I love you, but I don't want to cry for you again.

And I'm not crying even now, as I write this.

Well, I'm confused. I don't think I'd even send this to you. Would you even read it? It's so long and messy and weird and it makes absolutely no sense. I won't go back and read it again before I send it, if I ever do. Because I will cry then. I know I will. And I'd find so many grammar mistakes, that it is ridiculous that someone as educated as me would have even come up with something so sloppy and imperfect.

But that's who I am. I'm educated. I'm sloppy. I'm imperfect. And, in my own weird way, I'm in love with you and with all of your perfect imperfections, too.

Hey, I'm only human…

And I'm 23 years old, for God's sake. I should be bar-hopping, drunk off my ass, having one night stands with hot, arrogant guys and sniffing stupid white crap out of well-polished surfaces. I shouldn't be educated. I shouldn't be perfect. I shouldn't be working so hard…to make you want me. And to make myself a good person. I shouldn't have spent my life, working so hard. What was the point? I wasn't good enough…

Why wasn't I good enough for you?

Now, please profile one thing out of me – Why do I still want you back? Why am I tempted an also kind of willing to put all my fears aside and to let you back into my life? Why is it that every time I see you in your perfect FBI glamour, with your new friends all around you, I want nothing more but to put my stupid fears aside and run to your side, to hug you tight, like I used to do all these years ago? Do you remember my hugs? You'd call them 'bear hugs'. I'd stick to you like glue and I wouldn't move, I wouldn't breathe, if not to breathe in your scent. I still remember exactly how you smelled. I know you've changed your signature perfume since then, but I remember the old one. I liked it, it was sweet, mysterious, strong, but not too much. Just like you. Fragile. Yet strong. Full of surprises.

I'm an adult now. I hide behind the identity of a bubbly girl, without a care in the world. But it's just pretense. I'm not happy. I don't think I ever could be, anymore. And I don't know who I really am. Can you profile that, too, please? Because I need to understand it.

Can you, also, tell me why I see you now, but I don't see the person I love? You two look identical, yet are so different. Why does the person you are now, want to have me back, but the person you used to be, dumped me twice? Where is the logic in all of it?

The one who loves me...is it you? Or is it your alter ego?

I need to ask you a favor. Please stop reaching out. I don't want to read your letters. It's not your words that I need. I needed you. I always will. But I can't keep hurting. They say with time, pain goes away. Like Hell, no, it does not! I hurt now, the way I hurt the day they told me you were gone… And I will never forget it. You broke me. How dare you love me and then break me?

If I ever heal enough to be able to go through the pain of letting you back into my life, I'll come search for you. But not now. Not here. I need to do this on my own. I can't handle seeing you and not seeing…you. I don't even know the person you are now. I don't feel comfortable around you. I still want to hate you and I hate myself for it, because it seems as if I'm being childish and holding a grudge, but pain is not quantifiable. It also is impossible to explain. Pain knows no empathy. Well, arguably, cognitive empathy would apply, but that's not my point. Although, it is scientifically proven in neurobiology that a subject's empathy for the pain of others only elicits activity in the anterior cingulate cortex and not in the somatosensory cortex, so yeah…

Just, Please, stop any and every contact with me!

It is now your time to wait and hope that one day I'd come looking for you.

And one last thing, because I am so incredibly close to bawling my eyes out and, like I said – I'm not going to cry for you no more!

The one thing I'm sure of in this life is that we're not promised tomorrow. So, if you ever come back in my life, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you.. And I'm gonna hold you, like I'm saying goodbye. Wherever we're standing, I won't take you for granted. Because we never know when we'll run out of time…

And if you want to bawl your eyes out, listen to the song that I just quoted. It's from a few years ago, but whenever I hear it, I think about you. I should probably also mention that I've listened to it on a loop for a while now.

And please don't cry for me. Your beautiful face does not deserve to feel tears, over someone who's not worthy of your love.

Ok.

Bye.

And just by the way…

If you love me always, I'll love you forever!


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

DISCLAIMER: This letter was intentionally written chaotic and all over the place, as this is what represents Angie's state of mind. All the trailing off and repetitions were very much intentional, too. Just a disclaimer before someone assumes I half-assed wrote this chapter while drunk hehe :)!

"GUEST" India? Wow, that is sooo far from where I live and it's cool to connect through something as random as a story hehe! I've been on lockdown for three months now, it's weird how it was Winter and now suddenly it's Summer LOL! Nope, I haven't watched Blood & Treasure, why? Is it good? I might give it a go if it's about crime and secret agents hehe, I enjoy such shows! Now a random question for you: which Criminal Minds character do you like the most and why? :) Mine would obviously be Emily, as I find her to be so extremely complex (as a character) and so interesting to explore in writing, with her occasional dark moments and her secrets and past as a spy.

"Spooladio" Look out for the words that point to Monkey's gender. I've intentionally let out a few 'slip ups'. But yeah, Monkey screwed Angie up more than she even realizes, despite the numerous psychology books she has read on that matter. However, the question now is whether Angie would cut Monkey out completely or she would give them a third chance? Or would she do as she told Martha and go stalk them and pretend like they are someone else, LOL? After all, Angie is the master of denial, her one and only equal opponent probably being Emily with her own denial and trust issues hahaha. This chapter is a HUGE turning point in the story. From now on Angie works on herself and those issues that have resurfaced, but she might not do so in the most convenient and healthy way. We shall see :) LOL thanks for replying about the AI, I was very curious. Yeah, those were the clues I put in there (repetition and her saying 'I'm afraid I cannot do that' in a robotic way). It's fun to know the readers caught on those hints :)! And OMG I have a feeling you will FLIP THE HECK OUT (not in a bad way, but as a surprise) when they learn about each other's identities! Trust me, you have no idea what is coming up hehe :P I hope you (and everyone else obviously) enjoy my ideas and the chapters to come. It's all a HUGE mess of hidden secrets, love, affection, relationships, identities, just ughhhhh you just wait for it, okay? :P Also, you are welcome about sharing my story :)! The amazing feedback that I get from my reviewers is more than a reward for me, for all those hours of planning, writing, editing, etc. I'm lucky to have each one of you, guys, reading and reviewing (or even just only reading) and enjoying the mysterious mess that I have so carefully planned and created lol :)! Remember that things seem weird and messy, but one day everything would make sense and you'll look back at the older chapters and be like "WTH I NEVER SAW THAT!" hehehe!

"Ducksdragonfly" HIII :)! I'm glad to hear that, it's always very nice to hear from you. Stay in touch, don't be a stranger :)! Also, thanks, that therapy comment was a huge compliment *wink*. Take care of yourself (and the people around you!) and know that each time you msg/review me, it puts a big happy smile on my face and I appreciate it, a lot :)!

"rmpcmfan" Awh, if your heart ached in chapter 91, then I guess this chapter 92 here must have been hard to read. It was hard to write, as well. I must have read it a million times, to make sure it was just as chaotic and emotional as I needed it to be (the letter, I mean). It's the first huge clue as to who Angie is and what the Heck is going on in her head. And yes, Martha was right about being on the other side, I wanted someone to show Angela that there are TWO sides to "hurt" and that even if she feels like she is on the wrong side, it doesn't necessarily mean the other person has had it easy. As for Monke's gender, I've let out a few 'slips' that give clues to that. Angie won't EVER put a gender to Monkey, but Martha is a smart woman and so are my readers :)! Monkey is absolutely CLUELESS as to how to verbalize their feelings! It terrifies them and they suffer with it constantly, which is why the letter approach was what they started with, but maybe they will face Angie soon. You just may not know exactly WHO Monkey is, as Angie sure does mix around with a ton of people all the time :P I also agree with you sooo much: non-verbal communication is so important, especially for such delicate situations as Angie's. A blink of an eye, a twitching of the chin, a nervous tapping on one's knee as they speak, those are all 'tells' that cannot be transmitted through a letter. A simple glance, a smile, a genuine emotion being detected in someone's eyes as they look at you - those are precious! A sigh, even. Someone trailing off, unsure what to say in real time... It is easy to write something and edit the crap out of it until it looks somewhat presentable, but it is so extremely hard to say the right thing, at the right time, all the time, to the right person, with the right words, accompanied by all the right non-verbal cues. It's practically impossible!

"sweetkid45" Hehe, me neither, don't worry :)! And thanks , about the chapter :)!