Closure. An interesting word. It used to iritate me. I used to cringe when I would hear people say they needed "closure". Guess what? I understand that need now.

I know this letter will never be seen by you and that’s okay. I need to write it. I need to put down into words how I feel about you. Maybe then my heart won’t feel like a rock in my chest. Maybe I’ll have closure.

I try to understand. There really isn’t anything to understand, though. You hit our child and there is no reason, excuse or justification for that. I suppose what I am trying to understand is not why, but how. How could you do it? How do you sleep at night? And how in the world do you actually think you had the right?

You’re lucky, you know. You’re lucky all I did was call the police. You’re lucky I didn’t react on gut instinct to seek you out and hunt you down. You’re lucky that Joe didn’t do the same.

I am trying to tell myself that it will be alright. I’m married to a wonderful man now and our children have a man in their life that is more a father to them than you will ever be. Than you ever were. He was that even before your rights to your children were taken away. I am trying to tell myself that time and love will heal our son’s wounds. I am trying to tell myself that I won’t always hate you. That I won’t allow you to have that power over me. I think I’m failing at that, though.

Don't try to come back in our lives Mark. You don't deserve our children. Stay away, please. Stay away forever.