Closure...I just want closure.

Dear J,

     I've said it before, we were moving forward. We were at a good place. We were feeling happiness. We, meaning Addie, Koleman, and I. We knew that you were gone. We thought for forever. We didn't know how to think differently after not seeing you for almost two years. So like I have said, after I heard from you through an email on Christmas Eve saying you wanted to see the kids, I didn't know what to think. How to feel. What to do. So I ignored it. I pushed it aside and buried the confusing feelings. You didn't contact me again until Koley's birthday a few weeks later. After I didn't respond. You were not mean, but not kind. You were adamant about seeing the kids. It was supposed to be a happy, fun, exciting day celebrating our precious angel's 11th birthday. It was quite opposite of that however. I was scared not knowing if you would show up despite my response to you pleading for you to understand how hard this was on the three of us. You responding with threats of showing up with a police officer enforcing your rights stated in the divorce decree of supervised visitation once a week, scared me. What were you going to do? I called you after you told me you were living at your mom's. I was shaking as the phone rang. I hadn't talked to you in over a year. The conversation was hard. The hardest part again, as I've said previously, was hearing the words "we're married" referring to you and the girl you had been with even when we were married. I tried to deter you from seeing the kids. They didn't want it. I didn't want it. We wanted to just move on. We want the pain to just leave. We want to forget, not you, but the you that you have turned into. I would go a while not hearing from you, a week here, three weeks there, and then another email telling me you were going to see the kids. I went almost four weeks without hearing from you. I got a scared feeling. Feelings that were extremely uneasy. You were so adamant about seeing the kids, so consistent in asking for the past month and a half, there was no way you just were going to give up. What were you going to do? I didn't know. The unknown is not a place I like to be when it comes to the kids and you. I prayed. I prayed and prayed. I fasted. I sought counsel from my bishop. I prayed some more. I felt inspired to take the reins. To have control of the situation in a way that was going to be best for the kids. I emailed you. It was a Friday night. I told you if you wanted to see them, you would have to come to our home. I would be there. They needed the comfort of their own surroundings. I told you if you really wanted to see them you would come Sunday evening at five o'clock. You agreed. You said you'd be there. You came. It was hard seeing you. It was hard because although I saw a man now covered in tattoos, a man with a different countenance, a man with a wedding ring that didn't symbolize the marriage we had, but a marriage you were now in, I still saw glimpses of the man I chose to be my eternal companion. The man I fell in love with for who he was. However, now he was no longer mine. He was no longer the exact same man I was meant to spend eternity with. It was hard to swallow. The visit went better than expected. You stayed only a short time. Then once again, you were gone. A day went by. No word from you asking how the kids felt about the visit, or how they were doing. A week went by. Still nothing from you. Two weeks went by. Finally Two and a half weeks after, I get another email. You wanted to see the kids again. Although they both felt good about the visit, neither one of them had the desire to see you. They didn't want to. Addie actually refused it. They are scared. They are confused. They are hurt to the core. They don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. They don't know what to expect. Time went by for a couple of weeks, and again you contact me trying to see them. I asked Addie. She replied with an "absolutely not." Koley was just "not sure." I need closure. I need to move on. I need the pain to stop. I need my heart to heal. I need my happiness to stay and to feel genuine. I know I am in charge of that. It is up to me. So I asked if you would sit down and talk to me. I just wanted answers. Why was I not worth fighting for? Why does it seem as though you so easily walked away and began a new life with another women, another family? Why did I deserve this? What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? You ignored my request. I asked again, referring to the first time I asked. You complied to sit and talk with me. You show up last night to talk. Addie wanted to be gone. She didn't want to be home and have to see you right now. I think it's just too hard at this point. Koley was ok being here, but not totally on board with the idea of being around you and talking with you. Seven o'clock. There's a knock at the door. I open it to see you standing on the other side. We awkwardly said hello. I grabbed Koley to come make the situation a little less awkward. He stayed for possibly a whole one minute. We sat down in the living room. Making awkward small talk. I finally just got right to the chase. I told you the reason Addie wasn't there. I told you my concerns with her. How she is so down on herself. How she was doing so well in school and now her grades are suffering. How I didn't know how to help her with so many struggles she is facing on a daily basis. I'm sure a lot of them are because of the age she is at, but I feel like a lot of them aren't. There is something buried deep in her that eats at her. I see it. I sense it, but I can't figure it out. I try to pull it out of her. I don't know how. She doesn't trust easily. She is skeptical of everyone. She doesn't dare get close to people anymore, I'm sure in fear they will be ripped out of her life like you were. I reminded you of the confident, happy, care-free little girl we both knew before. I told you she was not the same. You were understanding in the fact of her not wanting to see you right now. However, I don't know that you grasped the fact that your choices have, I'm POSITIVE, impacted her huge decline of confidence. I then told you that it has been extremely hard having you all of a sudden come back into the picture. It is hard for the fact that we are no longer an eternal family. It is hard knowing that you aren't the same person we loved and adored. It is hard that you come back just wanting to go right back to being their dad, almost as if nothing ever happened. I then bit the bullet. I told you that it was hard on the kids as you come back not only a different person, but with a different family. A wife that isn't their mom. Kids that aren't their siblings. People that are complete strangers, that in all honesty they don't want to get to know. It is extremely hard for me. I asked you why. Why did I deserve all of this? Why was I not worth it to you? How could you have ever loved me and then done this to me? I started to cry. The next thing I knew, you were sitting next to me hugging me tight. I didn't know how to react. I didn't know how to feel. You are married. You chose drugs. You chose the lifestyle. You chose this other woman. I told you I just want to be happy. I am just wanting closure. My mom, being the protector that she is, then comes in. "Oh no", I thought. "This can't be good." She asks how you are doing. She asks what you are doing, what your plans are, where you work. Then it came. She told you you lost the best thing that ever happened to you. I wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. She told you what she had to witness as she watched her daughter struggle to the point of not being able to get out of bed every morning. As she saw her in pain every single day. She told him how horrible it was to see the effects of my pain wear on the kids. How hard it was to see me come home from the attorney's office not being able to breathe after signing papers that ended what was supposed to last for eternity. She told you a lot of things that I know came from her heart, and things she felt like you needed to know. I knew what it was going to do. You would be furious. I kept my head down. I couldn't look at you. When she finally finished saying what she felt she needed to, I didn't know what to do. I knew you would think I put her up to it. I knew you would just use that as another reason to blame me for our marriage ending. I finally looked up. I was right. You were furious. I could see it in your face. You said you needed to leave. I told you I was sorry and that I didn't know that was going to happen. You walked over to where I was sitting, leaned down and hugged me. You said good-bye. I only wanted closure. I honestly don't know how to get it. I felt that talking to you would be the way. It wasn't. I'm more confused. I just want to move forward. I want to be happy. Why can't I just let you go? Why can't I just come to terms with what is?