My Brief 'Dear Knob' Letters

This is a blog post inspired by the Dear John thread on the LoveHoney forums, I started to post this there but it is unfair to inflict such darkness to a happy place, I will retain it for my blog and those who choose to delve into my mind rather than having it thrust upon them.



To knob No 1 - Thanks for killing any of my self belief when I was a 15 year old naive and Christian child, too hidden from the world to really know anything of relationships. A ten years older man with odd cultural beliefs and in the medical profession was just what I needed between the ages of 15-18 obviously. Especially as you were such close friends with a paedophile and knew about it, not telling me and letting me take my little brother to his house so we could all watch dvds and you and he could get off on just being with us. Thanks for also keeping notes on my 'good' points and 'bad' points so that I never felt I really matched up to your expectations and standards, letting your brother refer to me merely as 'woman' and espescially thank you for controlling what I wore, who I was friends with, writing doctors notes so I didn't have to go to school/college and therefore didn't do as well as I possibly could have in my A-Levels particularly, using me to do all the chores, lying to my parents, beating me up then getting me to cover the bruises, leaving money on the side as 'pocket money'... yeah thanks. Eventually promising we would be together after 6 months while you got yourself together in South Africa, you eventually got the balls to call a week later and say you were actually in Canada and that I should wait 2 years for you. I took pleasure in finally summoning up strength to tell you to go rot in hell, from my new home in Ireland with a supportive girl and potential new male partner in the offing (yes I did run rel to rel), and taking £1,000 off you for the pleasure. Good riddance knob No 1.


To knob No 2 - your poetry and compassion after knob No 1 was refreshing, it felt like you really cared about me. However it became apparent in the two years we wasted together that you were nothing more than a manipulative evil man, who just liked having control over someone. Thank you (in no particular order) for beating me in broad daylight as well as in the house with that cane you carried which was for your so-called 'bad back', leading everyone to feel sorry for you and think I was complaining about nothing if I ever mentioned anything in the least negative. Thanks for forcing me back onto the stairs so I had bruises for a month up my spine. Thanks for holding me out face first from an upstairs window over a busy road while screaming into my ear what a bitch I was. Thanks for making me hide away in cupboards while your friends came round cos you didnt want me seeing how you were with other women or letting other people know you had a partner, or disturbing your immature 'lad' nights with James Bond, Lara Croft and various porn dvds/lad mags. Thanks for the random issues I have to this day which don't fit at all with the rest of my open-minded personality! Thanks for forcing me to wake every morning to a huge poster on the ceiling of a half naked woman, so the first thing burned into my eyes was the model of a perfect and sexy body which I at 18, obviously compared myself to daily and was crushed deeper into self hate. Thanks fornot bothering to visit when I was in hospital after the ODs and then locking me out when I returned. Thanks for making me sit on the doorstep all night on a number of occasions, crying so hard I regularly tore the muscles between my ribs. Thanks for eventually not believing me about the assault...


Which leads to knobs 3 & 4 - thanks for ripping from me any trace of innocence, so harshly so brutally, at the very time I finally believed I had some freedom with a basic till job, on an employee night out, which I was actually allowed to go on. Thanks for helping to kill any desire for men and any trust. Thanks for drugging me. Thanks for making it so I can still to this day remember every tiny detail despite the fact I say I can't. Thanks for gagging... holding... binding. Thanks for the control obsession I have.


To knob No 4 - Not really your fault. By this stage I was drugged, cut, suicidal, hazy, on anti psychotics and mind altering script drugs, addicted to 15 Xanax a day (yay for stupid doctors) supplemented by anti depressants. In and out of hospital and never without scars running up and down my body, neck, breasts, stomach, hips, thighs, arms. I didn't ever want you, I didn't find you attractive. I found you repulsive. Perhaps you were just there, perhaps I was afraid of sexual attraction.We married, I hated you, we never had sex, I kept my distance, I never had an orgasm during the years I was with you. I worked, I got off the tabs so my physical health at least was better, I left... we divorced. I hope you have a happier life.


A brief history of the longer of my relationships before I met my man. Comes across very 'victim' for which I apologise. I don't want pity or sympathy, I am much stronger now. I needed to let this out onto the world. The above is a summary, without my use and abuse of men, the club times, the payments, the women, the dark hazy druggy 'am I even alive?' times. These briefly mentioned details are the times that stand out as stepping stones to my feelings. You cut me and I bled to the world.


Thank you Lee for being my one.


I love Our song, which you dedicated to me, in your beautiful transparent, sincere, clarity and sometimes painful but always welcomed honesty.
 
I love you
 
xxx