You will never read this, and we will never meet. But if I had the chance, this is what I'd say to you.
I'm aware of the terrible things you've done. I have every reason to feel about you as everyone else does; the matter's not that simple. You didn't get where you are now, alone.
Chances are you'll die where you are now.
Don't misunderstand me; if you had acted alone, I would not waste one thought on you. It is precisely the partner you chose which makes you tragic to me.
It makes you despised to the rest of the world.
The rest of the world doesn't care about your fate; as you are safely tucked away, they lose no sleep at night. Probably they believe they sleep more soundly, knowing where you are. I am wide awake, trying to answer for myself what it is about your fate that is such a comfort to everyone but me. I could have been one of your victims; perhaps I am, and I don't know it.
But I really don't believe that's so: I am wide awake, wondering if those whose sleep is undisturbed are more the victims. And if their need to keep you in your prison won't imprison them as well. They assure me justice has been served by the sentence you received; to our good we're rid of you, is what they tell me.
Still, I'm wide awake.
Maybe my expectations of justice are too high. Or maybe other's expectations are too low. Maybe their low expectations have something to do with where you are.
I do want you to know, I also hated you, for quite a while. There was a time I also lost no sleep on your account.
But now I'm wide awake.
And you and I are joined by a betrayal.
Our fates meet each other in a lie; a broken vow to love, and honor. You are brought to me by her broken vow of love. I am brought to you by her broken vow of honor. She broke her vow of love by sacrificing you; her sacrifice of three young girls, shows me no honor.
You will never read this, we will never meet; you'll die where you are now and that is justice, I am told.
I have every reason to despise you. But I am wide awake.
And if I had the chance, this is what I'd say to you.


Salon.com
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