By Felicea Gattagrisa
Dear Selene,
I hope you’re asleep now. If you are, it means you’re having a good night.
As for me, I cannot sleep and it’s almost 3am. Our last conversation is keeping me awake and I cannot stop thinking about it.
It was a couple of weeks ago, when I rang you out of desperation as I felt lonely and hopeless. Even going through the chats we’ve had with the girls on WhatsApp about our dysfunctional families couldn’t console me. Yet, in my desperation I had nowhere else to go and I called all of you on the WhatsApp group, hoping someone would answer.
And you were there on the other end of the phone that day, saying ‘They might treat you as a second-hand pair of shoes, but you’ll always be the best to me. I love you.’
I’d be lying if I told you that those words didn’t have an immediate effect on me, because they did. They triggered the idea in my mind that being ignored by your own family doesn’t necessarily mean you’re bound to be invisible for the rest of your life. In fact, they made me realise that, except for myself, nobody was ignoring me.
Now though, those same words sound sinister and are keeping me awake. They’re making me nervous. Indeed, the thought that your love can’t be trusted is making me restless tonight, while I’m fighting back the unpleasant memories of the unwanted kisses you used to give me on my lips, when we were younger.
I felt a bit sorry a few days ago, when you messaged me saying you were not doing well and I laconically commented, ‘Don’t complain. You’re harming yourself.’ You were probably expecting something like, ‘Darling, be strong. I’ll always be there for you. I love you too.’
Only, thinking about saying that makes me angry.
I’d like you to understand the reason behind my behaviour, which, I think, is this new awareness I have of myself.
In all honesty, there’s no better feeling than knowing the words you don’t want to say and the kisses you don’t want to receive.
I hope you understand my new state of freedom.
With Love,
Felicea
