Dearest GodzillaPin,

It’s been a month to the day I left France for good, walking out your life definitively.

I shall not go into details on such a public platform, how ugly things had become towards the end, save to say when I left, we were at a stage in our relationship where every conversation spiralled into an argument within two minutes of beginning.

We had an immense amount of frustration, hurt, distrust, loathing, and a lot of unhappiness between us. You may recall I spent the whole month between my return from Singapore and my re-departure hiding at the library trying to avoid you. You’d called me unrepeatable names. I wasn’t pulling my weight around the house; I’d given up trying.

It’s as if we forgot how our relationship started out as friendship. Remember how we met at my place one summer evening in an Australian December, when my German housemate celebrated her birthday? It was themed a Bad Taste Party and we were all dressed to our absolute WORST, and as the evening wore on, after one drink too many, you found it hilarious how I was recklessly rollerblading through the house while I got so excited finally finding a veritable French person who embodied everything I believed of the French language and culture.

We were young. We were innocent. We were naive. We were daydreamers.

Back then, it was just you and I. Our parents weren’t involved. We didn’t have the stresses that came with adulthood. We were carefree and careless. You were a romantic dreamer who taught me how to savour the pleasures of life.

I walked away for many reasons.

You know that for a relationship to work, it takes two hands to clap. Once upon a time we were high-fiving effortlessly, but after a while we weren’t clapping anymore. At any rate, even if we tried, we were missing.

Between Mother Rabbit and Papa Turtle, you know there was too much parental interference. As an Asian I understand the importance of deference to parents, but where we failed was permitting external voices to overpower our own say in the matter. I failed to shield my mind from Papa Turtle’s harsh criticisms of you, while you failed to shield me from Mother Rabbit’s criticisms, full stop. Like dripping water over time, it wore us both down.

Between your continuous unemployment despite many job offers, and my horrific illness of an eating disorder (and various other health issues – let’s not forget my car accident and multiple C. Difficile infections), things just got too much.

When you can’t deal with your own shit, you can’t be there for someone else. I wasn’t coping with my own problems and neither were you. How then, could we contribute and give 100% to our relationship when we weren’t taking care of our own issues?

The day I left, you drove me to the train station and in tears, you asked me how you were going to live without me.

It’s been a month and you’re still there, aren’t you? I know you are OK.

I’d never seen you crying that way before. I’d never seen such pain and hurt and upset, and a part of me died, knowing I was the cause of your hurt. But I hope you can see that I did it for US. I did what was best for both you and I.

All those years ago you asked me to leave it all behind – my job, my volunteer work, my friends and family in Australia and Singapore – to start a new life with you in France. I did that. I took a chance. I loved you with nothing less than my all. And because I don’t do things by halves, and because I still care, I did what I had to. Before your problems, and my own, completely ruined us. Before it destroyed our lives any further.

You thanked me for all the beautiful memories we shared. I thank you for them too. From backpacking through Europe where we visited castles, nuclear bunkers, wineries and beaches, to exploring various cities around Asia and sharing beers and barbecued seafood at the beaches, lazing around pools in villas… All the way back to when you used to pull me out my shell during my student days by packing homemade gourmet sandwiches for picnic lunches by the Torrens River behind the University of Adelaide.

Even back then when I struggled with my food issues, you taught me to take pleasure in my meals.

I left because I have my demons to fight. It’s a battle I must fight alone. I cannot drag you into this. So understand that after 8 years of shared history, by choosing to walk away, I’m not kicking you to the curb so much as I’m granting you a freedom from a flavour of hell nobody should endure.

Go. There is no time, no room, no chance for regret.

Make something of yourself and your life now that you’re not saddled with someone mentally ill. You’re a BAC+5 who went through prepa – your potential is limitless.

I believe in you. Chase your dreams, whatever they may be.

And when you asked me “how can I just forget everything we had, everything we shared?”, my answer is simply – don’t. Do not forget them, because I won’t.

You came into my life for a reason, and for all the pain and suffering you and I have caused, inflicted upon each other, intentional or not, we also gave each other a lot of happiness. So don’t regret any of it, I try not to.

And when you’re sad, when you’re afraid, when you are in doubt, when things get too much, remember.

Remember the happiness and joy of when we were deliriously in love with each other, without any complications. When we were young and stupid and carefree and truly happy. And find the courage you need to get through all the shit you face with these memories. We had too many to count. Let’s not count them. Let’s just be thankful for them.

So, thank you.

I loved you.

In a way, I still love you.

But just as love unites, it can separate too.

Here are some of my favourite pictures of the times we shared. You know we had many, many more. Camping in the Swiss Alps with Matt Damon. Shared meals in our apartment with Mickey Mouse. Racing up the Dune du Pilat with Sonic the Hedgehog.

All those races you drove me around France to, and your beaming with utter pride as I crossed the finish line each time, when my own parents were not there to celebrate these victories.

Remember them all with a smile. I try to.

And in case I haven’t said this enough, let me say this once more.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Fondly,

Ninja Turtle

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3 thoughts on “If You Love Them, Set Them Free

  1. Mandy Maidment-Hodges says:

    C’est parfait. Bravo. 💕😩🤗💐💕

    (8 ans. Incroyable!!)

    J’adore les photos, les souvenirs – mals et bons. J’aime bien là vérité. Avance, mon amie précieuse. 💙💛❤️
    Et merci beaucoup.
    Sent from my iPhone

  2. sending you so much perseverance. i believe so wholeheartedly that fighting your own demons will leave you stronger and more whole than ever before. keep on keeping on. there is hope. 💙

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