I need you to know something—
I never stopped loving you. Not for a single second.
My distance was not from something you did. My distance was from my own issues that I was scared to face.
I've been struggling mentally, which is still hard to admit in a letter. It took me two days just to build up the courage to write that out. I think it's pathetic, but my therapist says it's progress.
And to stop insulting myself—which is an ongoing battle when you've hurt the ones you love most.
I'm not ready to tell you it all just yet. Not through a letter, anyway. I want to do that in person.
I owe you that much, baby.
Instead, I want to take ownership of all the ways I wronged you, so that it's written down and can never be denied by me.
If I ever do, you take this letter out, and you show me the words I've written, and you hold my ass accountable.
Wendy,
I failed you as a husband.
I failed to be a parent to our boys.
I left you alone to raise our sons.
I made you feel rejected.
I made you feel invisible.
I neglected you.
I dismissed you.
I yelled at you.
I missed the therapy appointment on purpose.
And I feel sick to my stomach, because you didn't deserve any of that.
You are a fantastic mother, a wonderful wife, and, more importantly, a good and kind person.
And I'm so sorry that I deliberately hurt you.
I'm never going to stop apologizing to you, not until I earn your forgiveness.
Even if you can never forgive me, I'm still going to try.
I'm going to show up. I'm going to be present. I am going to be the man that you deserve. I'm going to be the father that our boys deserve.
When I'm out of here, I'm going to crawl my way back to you, Wendy.
Either as a husband or as a co-parent, whatever you'll allow me.
But I need you to know that you're it for me, baby.
The very second I saw you, just as I know now, twenty years later.
Wendy Durant, you are the love of my life. I'm sorry I wasted so much time this past year, but I'm gonna earn it all back, if you'll let me—day by day, second by second.
