Part of a conversation that I will never have

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and see you. I, um….”

“Yeah thanks, a coffee would be great. Milk, two sugars. Is it ok if I….”

“Thanks”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t really known what to say since she died. You know it was me, on the memorial, right? I’m sorry I had to be so secretive, it’s just I…. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. Or whether you would be ok with it?”

“That’s ok then. I meant everything that I said. I hope you can believe that…. It’s important to me that you do. I just haven’t been able to find the words until now. Everyday seems like a thankless struggle against my own guilt and grief. I know I did so much wrong, that now I can’t take back, or seem to apologise for. I know I’m guilty. And nothing I can do will ever bring her back. I’m so sorry”

“Why did I lie? I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s been something I have asked myself everyday? It’s what I do…. It’s what I have done everyday for… for a long time”

“But I felt like I was being held to ransom. From the moment I met A, it felt like you, your mum, even my own work were holding me to ransom for a result”

“Oh yeah, and A was oh, so perfect, wasn’t she? Why do you have to do that? I understand your need to grieve too, but why keep pretending? I had to laugh…. You think she could only see the best in people? The facts are, she could see the best in people and manipulate it. She did. Whether you accept that or not. I had it since September, so don’t bloody tell me otherwise”

“You know she wanted me to die too? No, I didn’t think you would have found that amongst whatever crap she left. So, yeah, she had it planned and everything. She wanted me to die. Does that sound like the angel you seem to want to remember? There’s so much you don’t know about her. Didn’t know about her. And wouldn’t want to know. Your own daughter and you blame me for lying? It was the only way I could cope with the constant threat she held over me, where one false move would have a ‘fatal’ consequence. You try living with that”

“God, what is the matter with you lot? Let’s face it, you saw me as a convenient way out. How long did you go not speaking with her? Days? Weeks? Months? You don’t think that was pushing her that little bit closer to the edge? You wanted shot of her, you’d had you eighteen years worth and thought that you were done. And I was your way out”

“You really are crazy. Seriously, at least I’m able to take a good look at myself. Understand my faults. But you really think you are blameless? Ha ha”

“I don’t even know where to start. For someone who says they care, I find it very difficult to get why you would ever think letting a guy, what’s his name? You know A‘s ex?”

“That’s it. L. How can letting a guy who effectively raped A post on her memorial? And reminisce about the “good times”? Sometimes I don’t think even you have that right, let alone some guy who effectively made A plan her suicide. Wasn’t she hospitalised after she met him? And that’s how you honour her memory?”

“Ok, shall we talk about her fat, good for nothing, brother? Or her sister who can barely speak? Yeah, great job with that lot. Ha ha, and don’t even get me started on your mother. Have you ever thought about getting her treatment? She lives like a pig. It’s nasty. But oh no, nothing’s wrong with her….. it’s natural to live in your filth?”

“I’m sorry, I’m angry. But I’m sick of blaming myself. I know you’re to blame to. I just wish you would accept that. I mean, the police never phoned. I wasn’t called to the inquest. She was under your roof when she died. Did you never think to check on her? I have nothing to feel guilty for. I saved her and what thanks have I ever had for that? You couldn’t even be bothered to call me for the funeral. I mean, is it any wonder that I have driven myself mad with guilt?”

“A was no angel. Her demons ran much deeper than you’ll ever understand. I won’t accept that you knew her at all. Only I ever knew the real A. And I was the only one who made her happy. I mean truly happy. I bought her back from the brink and gave her some happiness. I truly thought she believed that, at least for a moment. Yet you feel you are the only one who can grieve? You’re grieving a false memory”

“Are you haunted by ghosts? Do you get up every day wracked with guilt? Knowing that even sleep will only ever bring the same tomorrow? I gave up everything for A, and this is how I am repaid? To be made to feel guilty constantly? To have my motives constantly questioned? I loved A. Loved her. Can you say that? I took her to heaven and back; I saved her; gave her months of happiness. At least she smiled again. Her death was inevitable”

“It was. She wasn’t mucking about the first time, you saw that. The doctors were amazed she made it. Kind of ironic that with my care, my time, she chose to live? Yet in yours? She…. I’m sorry. No seriously, I am, I’m sorry. I’ve gone too far. I knew coming here was a mistake. I think I better go. I’m sorry”