(249) The Ties that Bind

You’ve asked before

and last night over prime rib and lobster

you asked again —

can’t we just let it all go?

I thought briefly of trying to explain

how it took me at least a year, and maybe more

to fully let it in,

to truly see that the ties that bind

were now being used against me.

The breach was not a clean break.

It was taking what I thought was a healthy and loving relationship

and slowly wrapping it like a rope around my neck.

No matter what I did, I could not avoid being strangled

by the insult to my feelings of love and trust

that were so totally trashed and annihilated.

I had believed in this family,

just as you;

but I stood and watched helplessly

as she turned her back

on her father,

her brother,

and yes, even you,

because of money.

Money.

Think on that.

Little by little, the picture became clear

like a Polaroid developing before my eyes,

the bigger plan that had been in place all along.

Comments made. Games played.

Cryptic warnings from others who had suffered similar betrayal

fell on deaf ears.

Our deaf ears.

To our detriment.

Because then it was our turn.

The horrible things said over the phone;

the deflections that we fell for time and again — out of trust and love;

the unkind and untrue words put in writing.

Toxic. All.

For a year I hurt and cried at of loss of a sister I had loved deeply.

I tried to talk it out, write it out, trying to force an understanding

for an evil that cannot be understood.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes once said, when you see evil, run.

I was blind. So, so blind.

It isn’t about forgiving and forgetting.

This went too deep.

In regard to your request last night,

I realized while sipping my Chardonnay

that even saying any of this wouldn’t matter.

The ties that bind are permanently unraveled.

We cannot put these fragments back together again.

I am surprised as anyone at the truth of this.

And as I write this today, I realize it isn’t my job anyway.

I did not destroy this family.

I cannot put it back together.

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