I'm not really going to share any of the context behind this letter. Only that there was an uninvited guest from my past who witnessed my wedding to Serafina last year, my first girlfriend who I hadn't heard from for 30 years.
This is a slightly edited version of the Christmas greeting she was just sent.
Merry Christmas to you and yours,
It's almost impossible to explain what happened before in my life, revisiting the past isn't really my cup of tea, and old unresolved feelings don't always lead to good night's sleep.
You showing up caused me emotional turmoil, and that's not what I needed then, or now.
I'm not going to accept any friends requests from old friends, especially old girlfriends. But I will give you this one single letter, so you won't think I hate you, or something silly.
It's not personal, it's just the way I'm coping with my past, not to mention my present.
I'm not giving second chances or third chances to people who have hurt me, life is just to short. Mistakes were made, people were hurt. Just because you came to me with apologies, confessions, and testimonials thirty years after the fact, doesn't make scars go away. I thought those scars had faded, but somehow they look red again now because of your appearance.
The life I lead seems quiet and mild on the surface, but I've always been different than the Michael Samadhi you knew. That is at least part of why revisiting the past isn't my thing, there's nothing from 1979, or 1989, or even 1999 that's important to me anymore, I've moved on and I don't look back much at all.
And the person I am now isn't anyone you know . . .
I'm into Tantra and BDSM. I'm into bondage and discipline, I dig leather and latex and pvc and other fetish wear. I like to use bondage and restraint to make my partner helpless before I ravage her for hours. I'm as good at wielding a flogger as anyone around, although I haven't yet mastered the single tailed whip, that's one of the few BDSM skills I haven't studied and trained to master. I captivate women, enslave them, use their sexual desires and needs as a leverage to turn them into sex slaves. Then I fucking blog about it!
So I'm not exactly a "nice guy", in fact most church going folk like yourself usually go a bit pale at the thought of the stuff folk like me do in the bedroom. I'm not going to apologize for who I am, and it's not something I was going to tell people until I was ready.
And playing music - argh - it's definitely NOT my thing at all. Serafina is a musician, she's a drummer with the whole kit to play rock music. But me? It's different.
You see the guy that gave me piano lessons when I was a child, even up through the time I knew you, was a bad man. I was sexually abused by him from the age of 12 to the age of 16 when I grew old and brave enough to stop him.
Yes I know that time directly overlaps when I knew you. I didn't tell anyone then, you are one of only three, now four people I've told since.
So I hope you find peace in your life. Know that you touched my life, that you hold a fond place in my heart, and that I certainly remember some of our youthful escapades. If I ever wrote memoirs, you'd deserve a whole chapter.
Also know just as surely that this is the last time I'll write. I owed you this much. After all these confessions, I feel any past debt to be fulfilled. I'm a new and different man now, you don't know me at all, and it's probably best to leave it at that . . .
12/21/2011 - On the Eve of Winter Solstice