Happy birthday, Vex. I hope whatever happened to you, you’re safe and happy. You had a whole hell of a lot going for you.
I’m so tired of being tired of myself. I don’t want to be me anymore.
Dis me. Reposting to spread the word.
Where is it drawn and how do I know if I’m there and gone?
It is finished. These are the last words I found in me and so I leave them behind for you. If nothing else, I ask you not to burn or tear this, but pass it along to someone who will care when you are through reading it.
This letter is not to blame you or anyone else, but is a sort of insurance that you will not blame anyone else. Rest assured that it was the problems between you and me that had things end this way, but also, that it was me who had no desire to fix them. I didn’t want to stand there and listen to another copy/paste lecture, to nod my head and call myself a good for nothing and a cheat while you casually talked away the reality of my existence into little more than a failed attempt at some business venture. An effort wasted.
After all, my Father never wanted me, so it was foolish of me to let myself believe for near 20 years that you did.
To you I was a burden, a single child that forced you to be a single mother. You like to keep the glass half full, and so I became one of your projects that’s only supposed to take an hour. Only I, as many other things you so conveniently wave your hands at, dragged out as long as I could.
You always wondered why I seemed to try so hard for my friends but not you. I guess, in the end, they filled up some of the endless pit inside of me and that made it easy. I know them as people and at least a little, they understood me. Or tried to. Which you never, ever did. Still, I always owed you for existing and as a lot of people know about me, I can’t stand to be in debt. Let alone a debt I could never repay and didn’t ask for.
Please believe when I say that I did it with only the purest intentions at heart. I would have killed to feel worthy of you. Years upon years as I child, I learned to be alone with my books, and eventually, my computer, and I learned how to make myself happiest when I was an island unto myself. This was all so you could live your life, so as a single mother, I inconvenienced you as little as possible. I suppose I hoped that by hurrying up into adulthood, you would want to be around me more. The world shifted around me as I grew, and I sat in the very middle, neither affecting nor affected by the hustle. I watched. I became cold, and cruel, and behind the round cheeks of a smile, I felt nothing. Even better, I didn’t want to feel.
And then I fell in love. I fell in love with a country on the other side of the Earth and without understanding why, I devoted my life to somehow getting there. She was my life and my meaning and the little girl in me had packed her bags long before I had considered the practicality of the matter. Back then, I thought I loved her because she was a place where people cared and were polite- where bonds took years to form, but never broke. Only recently did I realize that I wanted her because she was as far as possible from the life I had come to know as my own. I thought I was so happy, when really, I’d been waiting to run since middle school.
I suppose now it’s best to say I’m just tired. I’m tired of waiting to escape, and of being afraid of everything. I can’t remember the last time you called and I wasn’t at least a little afraid to answer. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to do something, only to make up an excuse not to go for fear you would be upset with me for not being around, should you want my company. I’m tired of being told that between two jobs and a full course load, I’m not spending enough time with you, only to find that when I do try to sit and stay a while, you’re too busy constantly checking your phone or messing around with your laptop to even really be “in the room” with me. I’m tired of being reprimanded after the fact, instead of just being asked to change or take notice when something you don’t like begins to happen. I’m tired of the small things I do [by the tens, at least] being erased by one large thing I may have overlooked. I’m tired of everything and I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be a part of this house anymore, but I don’t have the courage or strength to leave just now, nor anywhere to go.
So I’m not going anywhere. Mostly. I have to apologize for the mess in my room and bathroom- I never could get them as clean as you wanted, even when I really tried. Maybe that’s why I stopped trying. Who knows. Anyway. I’m sorry for the left behind messes, and for the unavoidable stains. I set down a drop cloth but that’s really as much thought as I cared to put into it. Fitting, I guess. I always was thoughtless to you.
Do not blame them or us. Blame me. I was the one who chose, in the end, to run from everyone. I was ashamed to show my face to the friend who gave me all the answers, and the woman who I promised children and a happy home. I know now that I am damaged, and there is no happy home for me. I will damage it and I will damage her as you have damaged me.
Those children would then damage their children and as I sit now, soaked in the tears of not only my life, but the lives of the children I can only be trusted to permanently mar, I know there must be an end.
Forgive me. I am selfish enough to be unable to carry those tears, as you have carried mine all these years.
No matter how tired I am of saying it or of swallowing it or forcing it out, I do love you and I am sorry.
You are an aspiring young artist/author[ess]/musician/businessman/researcher/insert profession here. You’ve worked hard at your craft and now you’re ready to put your work out there and present it to the people you know- but how?
I am so glad that you didn’t fight for me when I freaked out and called everything off. I’m glad you didn’t even ask why until weeks later, and how it didn’t seem to matter to you. I am glad you went after another girl just days later, and that while she was prettier and richer, she was also dumb as a post and more emotionally needy than I was.
Not sure how that’s possible, but maybe you had some sort of gift for finding needy girls.
I don’t regret trying to stay friends with you, even if you were terribly boring and more than a little annoying at times. I still worry about you when you’re called off to your military post. I know I haven’t emailed you back in a while, but I honestly feel there’s nothing much to say. You always call when I’m in the middle of something important, and you never have anything to say and haven’t slept in hours. I’m not trying to blow you off, I swear. Just sleep before calling next time.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to take care for you- I hope you find someone much better at it than what I might have been. Most importantly, you take care of yourself. Don’t forget how to laugh. Your sense of humor was one of the best things about you. Please don’t let military life steal that away from you.
Hello! I don’t know if you know this, but you are pretty awesome. Thank you for making work a little more tolerable, whether or not it’s totally dead. Thank you for going along with my horrible jokes and playing endless rounds of mythical creature hangman with me while we wait for 7 to come and go. There’s not many people who not only get past my social awkwardness, but even mirror it a little. I am glad you’re one of those magical people.
Also, boat nectar.
I would just like you to know that I am so thankful you are out of my life. I no longer feel bad about what happened and I no longer take responsibility for something I had no ability to predict or control. Our song[s] no longer give me panic attacks- they don’t even make me uncomfortable anymore. I do not miss any of the pieces of you, not even a little. I have stowed the bracelet you made me in a box in my attic so one day I can show it to my children and tell them to avoid someone like you with all they are.
That being said, I hope you are happy with whoever you’ve latched on to now, and that he/she isn’t being drained dry by you. I hope they never lose themselves, or begin to find you the hurtful, hating, horrible chore that you grew into for me.
I hope you find someone who can do more than put up with you out of obligation.