One Final, FINAL “Open” Letter

Dear so-and-so:

It’s been ages, and you know what?  I couldn’t be more thrilled.  I think I’ve almost made it.  I gave up, and once I decided to give in to the inevitable void that I was clinging to the edges to avoid, and once I just fell into that void, I found that I liked it out there.  And perhaps now, even if you did offer me a hand out, I woudn’t take it.  I would sit on  my little throne and look up at you with wide, excited eyes and I wouldn’t bother reaching back.  I like it in the world in which I live.  I’m safe there, safer than I thought I would be.  Are you safe?  Did you give in to something too, or give something up to be in the situation you are in now?  Is there something going on in your life of particular significance, for better or worse, that no one has told me?  Perhaps there is, and I don’t think I shall ever know what it is, and I’m happy about that.  Very happy.  In fact, aside from the issue of employment (side note: there is no issue, and therein lies the problem) I am as happy as I ever was.  As happy as I was in 2004-5, as happy as I was in 2007, times when I didn’t even know you existed, or cared to know, because I was enjoying life being the person I’ve always wanted to be; the person who had connections with people she truly loved, and who would love her forever, no matter how far away she was from them, or how long the time was between times that she spoke with them.  That’s all I ever wanted growing up friendless, and I got it.  Who had time to be out there in the world searching for you?

And then I found you, and I thought that I finally had known the kind of happiness that I was never really aware of beforehand.  I thought that my previous happiness had been a kind of lie, a certain brand of lighthearted deception, and that this sudden rush was a true moment of purity and clarity in my little life.  And then when that was taken from me, I had nothing for a long, long time.  You know all about it, even if you never wanted to admit it to me.  You knew exactly what was going on, but did nothing to stop it; in fact, in your way, you encouraged it, and things carried on and on and on, with you as the winner, and me as the loser, and the whole world laughing at me and wondering what I was doing wasting my time and wasting my life and spending all my energy and happiness on the very thing that would take all of my happiness away.  Someday, I know it won’t be like that for me.  Someday, I will find the happiness that I thought I found, and I will find it in somebody who isn’t like you at all.  Someday, I will be the winner and you will have to pay for what you did in one way or another.  I hope that day is sooner rather than later, but the one important lesson I learned from knowing you, is that you can’t hurry time, and you can’t force-feed someone something they simply don’t want to bother eating.  What I essentially learned, is that I make me happy.  No one else can make me really happy except me.  So from now on I’m going to do what I want to do, and enjoy myself, and not always hold myself back because I’m afraid of the actions of someone else, actions that I can’t even hope to control.  I’d do everythng in my power to keep myself afloat with you if there was a purpose, but there is not.  And so I kind of visualize myself drifiting far, far away from you, paddling with all of my strength, teetering across darting, gleaming black waves like obsidion.  And once I reach the water’s edge, when I can no longer see where I come from, that is when I’ll be happiest.  I would be sorry, but I know you’re not, so I might as well not be sorry either.

What I can realize though, is the memories.  And there are so many.  Lately, they only come to me in little fragments because I stop them before they expand across the plains of my mind and make me feel like I felt that day.  But sometimes little glimpses of memory do come to me.  They don’t make me feel the way that they used to though, so if I could, I’d get rid of those too.  Do you ever recall them, or care to?  That’s the only question I have anymore.

You see So-and-So, I’m a repeatedly scarred and (in certain aspects of my life), an incredibly unlucky person.  I have been subject to some of the worst terrors that people can be subject to in the first place; I am kind of ruined for life, and all I have is more questions than answers, more pain than love, more of this drivel-poetry and theorizing than actual life events to report on.  Someday I’d like to get married and get a real job and be in a comfortable, safe societal position but I don’t see that happening for a long time, simply based on all of these scarring and unlucky events.  And I don’t owe you anything because you did nothing to convince me otherwise; there were times when I thought maybe you cared enough to say or do something to help me, but it was all for nothing.  And because I think of you so contemptuously, you are invisible.  And I am here, happy about it.

I’d wish you all good things, but I don’t actually.  All I can say is, I’m sure I will see you again, but not if I can help it.  I’m not sorry for being so frank; what I do apologize for though, is how it all turned out like this.

Yours Sincerely,



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