Chapter 5

A couple of days after the gallery showing, a letter came in the mail.

Peter and Elizabeth,

A whole year has almost come and gone since my release from prison. But my feelings have not changed. I cannot find it in me to forgive you. That may make me sound like a horrible person, and it if does, well, so be it.

I lost two people whom I loved dearly. I let them into my heart and into my life because it felt right. It felt like that was where they needed to be, where they should be. It just seemed natural. I literally trusted the husband with my life. So, it only seemed right that I should allow his wife in. There for a while, for years, things were great…wonderful…magnificent. I left myself open to people whom I never ever considered would hurt me. It was true, that first stab had not hurt. I was too…shocked, too numbed by the 'love' to feel it. The problem with the good feelings, though, is that they always wear off. The good times always end. That's just life.

I lost my father, again, and I was not allowed to grieve that loss. I know you don't understand that. As a kid, growing up I had certain expectations that I had carried throughout my life. I developed my picture of what my father was and was not from that. When I finally got to see him again…I just, I can't explain it. My expectations were so high. I was so excited to have him back. And when he left me again, it was….. I crashed; it was as low as I have ever been.

But I didn't get a chance to process the pain, the anger, and the hurt. I never got to deal with it the way it should have been dealt with. I had to be 'on.' I had the FBI dependent on me. I had an agent telling me that no matter what I did I would never change. He was essentially erasing all the good we had previously done, because of one incident. He was telling me that I was no good. He was saying that he was wrong to ever believe in someone like me.

I was devastated. I can't tell you the extent of the hurt. I had been conned by the two most important men in my life. One for a piece of paper that proved his guilt, and the other for good solve rates. I was very angry that I had allowed myself to believe that I meant any more to them than what I could do for them.

I got the chance to deal with it all, finally. I needed time to think and to heal. Unfortunately, I had to go to prison to get it done. But the time away helped, it healed.

I cannot waste my life trying to impress people who will never be impressed by me. I cannot spend my life trying to change the minds of people who cannot or will not see me in any other way. I will not allow my life to be ruled by people, by things, that should have no place of importance in it.

You have made your thoughts and your feelings abundantly clear. I have heard you.

Please hear and respect me,

Neal

THE END