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Do not contact me again. Now you can know what it’s like for family to abandon you when you want and need them most.
Hanna
“They lied.” I cover my mouth and weep. The last letter. They gave me up when I was just a child. They lied to him and created a fake world where I never even existed.
I wipe at my tears and stand, running and leaving the room. I pass Brenda in the hall and ignore her calling after me. Slamming my bedroom door, I lock it and run to the closet, sinking to the floor and letting my heart just fall to pieces.
Those were just a few of the letters. What else will be in them? Do I want to know? They lied. Made him believe I was with them and wanted nothing to do with my grandfather. They could have left me with him the moment she gave birth. Clearly, I was someone he wanted in his life. Did he send them money after they lied and sent them the letter posing as me?
All my life, I thought my parents were lost souls who just didn’t know what to do when they had me. I even made scenarios in my head where they thought I would have a better life, where I could be cared for, loved in more ways than they ever could. All of that was wrong. They never wanted me. And in a disgusting attempt to get money, they used me. They talked about me with so much conviction, as if I existed to them and they knew me.
They didn’t know me at all, and these letters, their actions, may be crueler than the day they left me at that damn police station and took off.
“Sweetie?” There is a knock followed by Brenda’s soft voice coming from the bedroom.
I don’t answer; I don’t want to face them. On top of my overwhelming heartbreak, the pain of betrayal, loneliness, and lack of love, I’m embarrassed. I can faintly hear the sound of them mumbling. But I don’t care. I’m locked away and alone. Like I’ve always been.
To know that his love was there, that he not only tried for eighteen years to contact me, but he also still never gave up on me, especially after that cruel letter written under my name…
He gave me everything left to his name. He wrote me letters on days he knew would be important. There has to be more to the story in the rest of those letters, and I know I could piece them together like a puzzle. But I don’t think my fragile heart can handle it. I was a mistake, and my parents’ selfish act was the worst thing to ever happen to me. And it was the one thing that would affect me the rest of my life.
While my heart breaks for me, I also hurt for my grandfather. How painful would those words be to hear while still mourning the loss of his daughter? How lonely did he feel? Did he feel lonely like me? Looks like we were both handed a similar fate. He had friends and a world with people who loved him by design, but he lost all the family he ever had, and just like me, it was in the cruelest way.
Suddenly, now knowing the story, I feel a deep pit in my chest and stomach, the feeling of mourning the death of a man who wanted so badly to love me.
I lost the only family who loved me, and I’m surrounded by him. In his home, in his town and his life, but I’m without him, the most important thing I wish I could have. I would trade all of this to just talk to him, meet him, at least get a hello before suffering through a goodbye.
A scream leaves me, the sound so piercing it numbs my eardrums. If they could bleed from it, they would. Over the ringing, I hear the sound of shattering wood and thumps. In seconds, while wailing and crying through my devastation, I’m lifted and engulfed in strong arms.
Arms that have held me in every way but this. They have held me in lust and passion, but never in solace.
“Baby, I have you. You can breathe. I’m here.” He carries me to the bed and lays me down, my screams dying down to sobs so deep in my gut my entire body feels it.
“I hate them. I hate them.” I slam my fist hard against the bed repeatedly.
“Hanna, stop, baby. Stop,” Theo speaks softly, but I don’t listen. “Hanna. Enough. Calm down and listen to me,” he barks, and my body stills, his authority the one thing that always breaks me from whatever it is I’m going through.
“Brenda, go grab me some ice water please,” he asks her, and in a fog of tears, I see a worried Brenda nod, then rush out the room. I’m aware of what a mess I am and how crazy I look right now, but my life just fell into alignment, but it wasn’t in an easy way or the way that I thought would bring closure and peace. Instead, it brought rage and heartache, bitterness stronger than ever before.
