What would you like to know? Would you like me to spin you a tale full of heart ache, trauma, lies and deceit? Would that fill your hunger for juicy gossip? Shall I tell you about how bad things have been, how unhappy everyone is? Would you like to revel in our misery and make your own sorry lives seem better for a while? Oh, yes, for things must have been absolutely awful. It must have been hard to carry on. Perhaps there were days when I thought it would be easier to end it all than to continue living this awful life? Perhaps every morning I would wake with that dead feeling in the pit of my stomach, wondering how I would get through another day? You tell me that I hid my misery well, that I appeared to be happy and that you can’t quite believe it. You want to know the details; what actually HAPPENED. You haven’t kept in touch with me for many, many years. You don’t contact me during the happy times to say ‘thinking of you’. So why now, when you think that my world is ending, are you so suddenly overcome with a need to tell me how sad you are on my behalf? Could it possibly be because you want to know the details? Or better still, why not just contact my real friends and ask them what’s going on? Perhaps they can feed your hunger for a while.
Would it excite you to think that I had locked myself away in my room, unable to cope, unable to eat, sick with heartache, eyes puffy with tears? Perhaps I could take to the bottle and drink myself to numbness for your titillation. Would you like to know if people are around me, supporting me at this time? You must think I am totally alone, for it appears that I must need your assistance, despite the fact that you barely know me/do not actually know me/don’t ever speak to me. In fact it is not even your assistance that you are offering. You just seem to think you have a right to know “what’s going on”. Perhaps you are one of the ones that think it would be better that a parent actually died than split up, for the sake of the children? Oh yes, I have heard that said. Shall I tell you that my children are distraught? That they may never lead normal lives again because of the horror of the things they have seen? Will you be there for the children now that their parents have totally lost the plot? No? Oh, I see you just want the details. Ok.
Rest assured that your words of disappointment, sadness and disbelief do pierce my soul and pain me. They have not been wasted.
I hope Karma bites you in the bum.