Were You Ever Actually Sorry?

 

Quote: "He showed his remorse on the dance floor." 

Materials: Watercolors of red, blue, orange, and yellow, Black Ink, Ink Stamp

Description: Watercolors of a variety of colors form the structures of people. 

Open Letter: The Man Who Chose Dance

I was hanging out with a friend whose boyfriend had just broken up with her. The situationship I had been in for several months had also fallen apart. We both needed a pity party. We both went out that Halloween weekend, eyes puffed from our tears. It was a great time. 

As the night went on, we hit a moment of reflection. She told me she was sad because she knew he was alone with no one at home. It was at that moment I knew where my sorrow came from. It was the lack of remorse. The knowing that there wasn't a wasted moment on me. 

It was Halloween weekend. I knew inside me that he wasn't spending it home alone. He was, without a doubt, partying. He was having fun. While he may have texted me saying he felt terrible about how things had turned out, there was no moment to demonstrate remorse. He showed that whatever guilt he had was on the dance floor, where he partied the night away. 

This open letter goes out to him, The Man Who Chose to Dance. You caused me so much pain and heartbreak. Knowing that you didn't care is where my sadness comes from and where it continues to be. It's easy to say, "I'm Sorry." It is hard to make amends for the pain you caused. Yet, the pain does not stop there.

To add insult to injury, we were supposed to talk, and you canceled. You messaged me to state that you had overslept and about 5 other reasons why you couldn't speak, mentioning your busy weekend without any details. But I already knew what you had done that weekend. You posted on Instagram as if I wouldn't notice. You knew what your priorities were. Our conversation was not considered important enough to matter. 

What did matter to me was how it was all excuses, no actions. You canceled our conversation. You did not try to reschedule it and left me on read instead. When I reached out again to see why, it was again more excuses, no actions. I'm still waiting for that day, knowing that my wants are of no concern to you with every passing day. You do not care because you are living a happy life, and all you need to do is cut me out of it like I was expecting you to do from the start. Yet, it still hurts in a way. Like a scar, slightly dull and numb, but it reminds me of how, once again, my hopes were shattered.

If you ever read this and know who you are, I would like you to keep a few things in mind. One, social media is a powerful tool. It helps someone figure out the true intentions of others. 

Lastly, don't claim to be a person of kindness when you can only show up for the people you want to be kind to. What you have done to me was incredibly unkind. Yet, I wish only the best for those whom you have curated, that they continue to stay of interest to you, and that they are not treated the same way you have treated me. 

Kind Regards, 
Wren