Ironically, I don't want to kill him

One of the readers of this blog said that she’d want to kill the man who ran my boy over. I started to type a reply but it got longer and longer.

The thing is, I did want to kill him. Three weeks ago when I first saw him outside the supermarket, I wanted to drive my fist into his face with such force that it came out the other side.

Last week, I wanted to intimidate him - and I succeeded. But it was a hollow victory. Although I got what I thought I wanted, I quickly realised that wasn't what I wanted at all. Maybe I had to get it in order to realise it wasn't the right thing for me at all. When I recall the look of terror on his face when he saw me, I just feel pity for him - and for me too. I don't hate him. I feel sorry for him. 

Anyway, what I really want (well apart from being able to turn the clock back and stop Al going out that night) is to sit down with this man and have a conversation with him.

I know this gives him power over me but I don't know how to change how I feel right now. Maybe that's why I enjoyed that feeling of power last week - for a short time it reversed the way I feel most of the time. I want him to have some understanding of what it is like for me, and for my girls.

I would be happy to take things slowly and patiently. I so wish that the probation service hadn't rejected my request for Restorative Justice.

You know if I ever bump into him again, I hope my daughter isn't with me, because I really want to talk to him. I would do my best to reassure him that I wasn't about to attack him in any way and would offer to buy him a coffee and invite him to sit and talk with me. If he agreed, I wouldn’t want to scare him off so I’d want to take the conversation slowly and at his pace.

Given my outburst three weeks ago, I know it’s mad and highly improbable that it would ever happen – but it’s what I would like to happen. It would allow me a little closure – at least on one aspect of losing my boy.