Monday, February 5, 2018


I found the letter I'd written for my therapist. I read in The Road Less Travelled that mental illness or imbalance is caused by the unconscious and conscious not being aligned. I guess I must say I am much more resentful of Joey than I want to admit. I resent that our mistake was made by two people but only one person had to face the consequences. I hate that I lost a year of my life, fell out with several of my loved ones, felt suicidal at times, let other men confuse me even further.

This is what the letter says:

Sep 7, 2016 was the last time I saw you, at SpaceX, before I boarded the flight back to Singapore. One year later, I have anxiety and I almost hurled my breakfast. My therapist said that it might help to write letters, even if they are never sent, so here goes. I find it hard, almost impossible, to associate bad traits with you, because you got me pregnant, and I wanted to believe you were as good as it gets, when it comes to having made mistakes. Also, I loved you during my time in the US and my fondness for you lingered so that I still regarded you with rose-tinted glasses, for months, pretty much a year after. However, unless I face the facts and deal with all my suppressed resentment, I will never be able to fully heal. When I told you the news, you said that if I wanted to keep and raise the baby, I had ownership of my body and you trusted me to be a parent to our kid. That was the last nice thing I can remember you saying to me. For the next week or so until my miscarriage, you found it hard to come to terms with my decision, because if you became a father, you'd have to tell your family and friends. #noshitsherlock

When I had the miscarriage, you said you felt sorry for me but you were very relieved. That was the last that you acknowledged my pregnancy/miscarriage. I asked you to foot half my clinic/hospital bills. You said you would but you never did. I told you my parents found out and I was in deep shit, to no response. A week later, on a Friday night and you wanted company, you began sexting me. I don't have any problems with the general concept of sexting, but I'd just gone through the miscarriage of our baby. I was incredulous. You and your friends were planning a trip to Japan for early this year, and I was always supposed to go along with y'all. You said you'd ordered a batch of Plan B's, or the morning-after pill, for me to consume, "just in case". Perhaps avoidance is your way of dealing with things, but in following your lead, I buried a lot of the aftermath of my post-traumatic emotions. Not anymore, though. I am finally on my road to recovery. I loved you for a summer and it lives on forever in my memories, but I don't love you anymore. Goodbye.

Your Sarah for a Summer
Joseph Alexander Hallock, when you do apologise, I want you to think through what you did to me, because you know I still have it all, more than just your words. I want you to believe honestly that I did not deserve everything bad that happened to me last year, and that you are sorry for it and sorry to me, and that what we did was as much your fault as mine. I don't want you to say sorry just because you know unless and until you do, you will never be at peace in your life. I want you to apologise to me, and for me, but unless that happens, don't.

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