Dear Butch,
I was watching the news today and there was a story about a father and son who died when their car was struck by an 18 year old boy who was driving drunk. A boy and his father, dead…just days before Christmas. This young man is sober by now, and he’s sitting in a jail cell thinking about the mistake he made. He is thinking about the people out there who he has hurt deeply, by taking away their husband, their uncle, their brother, their cousin, their friend. It was an accident; he didn’t do it on purpose but it doesn’t change the fact that it is done and he can’t take it back. I’m sure he is sitting in cell experiencing the most sleepless nights of his life with many more to come. I’ll bet anything that he is as remorseful as a person could possibly be. He can say he’s sorry until the end of time and he cannot erase the pain he has caused. Even if he himself died, it only ads more suffering. I’m telling you this because what you did to me, and the things you did to others is one-hundred times worse than what they young man did because you knew what you were doing, and you did it consciously, and willingly. You didn’t make a foolish mistake like he did, you deliberately acted.
I was so very sorry to hear of your sister Diana’s cancer condition. No mother should have to leave her little ones so soon, but as I saw it…she had made her peace with it and with God. At first you did the right thing…you announced your retirement, you had seemingly come to terms with it, but then you chose to play God and sell your soul to a man who thinks he is, just to take your own pain away. The worst part of this is…half of the things you did, Senester didn’t even ask or demand for you to do them. If you were asked to come out there and break my leg to save Diana’s life, I would have put it in your hands myself. What you did to me had nothing to do with Diana, and nothing to do with blind rage. It wasn’t rage when you were threatening me for weeks beforehand. I heard Wisdom ask you if you liked it, the control and the power, and you said you did. I knew the answer before you even sighed to think about it. You didn’t go down any “road less traveled.” You went down the same sick path countless others have walked down when Senester has gotten into their head, the only difference this time is that you asked him to.
Why do you think Hans keeps his distance? He knows it all too well the diabolical manipulations of that demented man. Who will ever forget him ripping the flesh from your leg with that barbwire bat because he let Senester into his head? How sick and utterly disturbing was it for him to bring that same bat with pits of your dried blood and skin that he saved all these years for you to use on Hans?
Once upon a time, I was your biggest fan. Some weeks I would go home half-hoarse from screaming your name as you pummeled someone who deserved it. Thane comes to mind. I can still hear myself screaming your praise in victory, in objection to your losses, and in pride when you came to the aid of those who needed it and deserved it. You were a hero, and a friend.
I’m a big girl Butch; I know we all get injured in this business…sometimes by accident and sometimes by someone’s design. You’ve been it even longer. How many people have badmouthed you in your career, all the way from Thane to Eddie’s t-shirts, but you couldn’t take a little criticism from me. It’s not really my leg you broke…it’s my heart. “Sorry” is the only word to say, but it’s never really enough is it? I’m sure that 18 year old boy wants to be forgiven too, but it’s not that easy. You’re going to have to show me that you’re sorry, and as you do I will pray to the good lord that I can find it in my heart to one day tell you that I forgive you, but that day is not today Butch Parker, it isn’t tomorrow, and there is no telling when it will be.
Vanessa
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