Sometimes information is painful

For the longest time I have wondered what Drew was up to. Things ended so abruptly with him. I'll go into all of that another time. But it was so fast and over something so insignificant. For years I felt relief knowing I'd never see him again. I took comfort in the restraining order. Knowing he had to stay away until I was 18 was a wonderful feeling. Over the years I've gone from angry at him, to sad that he did this to me, to wondering what happened to him to make him treat me like he did. Sometimes I felt all these at the same time. I wanted to write him angry letters. I wanted to tell him that despite his hardest efforts I've grown into a Christian woman with a non abusive husband and amazing kids. He hated me going to church and was determined I'd never leave his side. I wanted to rub my well adjusted life in his face. Then at times I wanted to find him to tell him I forgive him. I like to think that I have. My dad and I were messaging today. He asked me if it would help or hurt me to know Drew's whereabouts. I told him I wanted to know. I've tried searching for him online, but nothing ever came up. I didn't expect to hear anything for a while. But a couple of hours later I had the info I've wanted. Drew was a transient in Las Vegas. He was crossing Sahara Blvd and was hit by a Toyota, then a Mitsubishi. He wasn't in a crosswalk. He suffered blunt force trauma and died at the hospital on September 12th, 2011. He was 62. It was hard to read the article. I was worried there would be a picture of him. I'll never forget his face, but I wasn't sure I could handle seeing it again. So many thoughts swarmed in my head. I'm glad he's dead. I wish he would have had a worse death. He deserved it. Then immediately I felt ashamed for thinking that way. I wondered if he thought of me as he was dying. I wish I could know. If he thought of me, how did he feel? Regret? Indifference? Or was he so far gone mentally that I wasn't even a part of his memory? I hate that I'll never know the answers. I don't like wondering if he forgot me after a while. It wouldn't be fair if he forgot about me while I live with him burned into my memories. I wanted the chance to see him and lash out at him. I wanted to make him feel horrible. I guess I haven't forgiven him. But I want to. *I was half listening to a song as I was typing this and the some of the lyrics were "What you never know won't hurt you. What you never know won't lie. What you never know won't make you cry." I guess I'm better off never knowing the answers.


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