Dear Bob & Patricia,

I love you both dearly, but I'm afraid I must tell you that you're very unfair. Today was just another shining example of this.

The first time he brought me to your house is a memory I will always cherish. It was Labor Day weekend, 2002. September 1st to be exact. Do you know I can still remember the exact date? I had been dating your son for a mere two weeks when he invited me to meet his parents. I had the date marked on my calendar for only a few days, but I stared at it every day. I was dreading it. Our relationship was so new, meeting his parents, his sisters and his brother, meeting this big, huge, wonderful family scared me. And I can not even begin to tell you how many hours I agonized over what I should wear.

It must have been hysterical to see me climb out of his monstrous truck. It was the third time I had been in that ridiculously big F-250 and was still learning how to navigate my way in and out of that vehicle without looking like a total stooge. Within five minutes you all had me so relaxed I couldn't even remember the butterflies that had filled my stomach mere moments before. I had barely walked through the gate into the back yard when Patricia gave me this sweet hug. Later, I described it to Will as a sincere hug as opposed to the quick, disingenuous one I had anticipated. As the time went on and I not only got to know your family, but was felt to be a part of it, I learned that while there were many words applicable to this great clan, disingenuous was not one of them.

And Bob. You didn't know about my dad at the time. You didn't know about our strained imperfect relationship. You didn't know he had died a few years prior. You didn't know I had this intense jealousy of your children for having this fantastic father. But, in a way, you must have sensed it. You took such good care of me and treated me as if I were your kid. We spent hours that first day discussing the draft picks, the Panthers season line-up, the World Series, and debated the merits of salt vs fresh water fishing. Deep conversations that continued through the course of my entire relationship with Will.

However, Will and I broke up over six months ago. It was tough for me to leave you behind as I parted ways with him, but it was something quite necessary. With that said, I am so sorry for what your family is going through and yes, I'm sorry for what he's going through, but it really isn't any of my concern anymore. Please don't invite me to dinner to ask me to assist you with him. I've spent the time since our split trying to become the person I was before him, trying to regain that level of confidence and independence I knew before things went so wrong. To put myself into a position where I allow Will and his drama to affect me would require me taking about ten big steps backwards. I'm not prepared to do that.

I do still truly love you both, I love your entire family. And I hope everything works out, but I can't be a part of this solution for you.

Love Always,
B