Dear "You"...From "Me"-Letters Unsent

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Dear neighbor who is shooting fireworks off at three in the morning,


You suck. Go to bed, d@mmit.

From,
Wide Awake

Dear you:

Even if you don't love anymore, i do love you, and i always will.

Me.

Dear you,

You suck, too.

Regards.
Me.

Dear you,

Are you being purposely oblivious? I think you color inside the lines because "that's how it's done." I do the same, but because it is soothing to me. If I want to add on, then who cares? But oh, no.... that's not how it's done...

Dear You,

Neener. Neener. Neener.

Fnord

Dear One,

You are right. I can turn and fight the s**t self-esteem, and the depression, and the PTSD. I can turn and fight those things and WIN.

The cost for that is that I am going to get very, very, very angry at you.

Because, whether you like it or not, you and yours were instrumental in giving me the goddamn PTSD, and the depression, and in exacerbating the s**t out of the low self-esteem until it became the driving force in my life.

You didn't do it alone, but it couldn't have happened without you.

If I turn and fight this, I don't want to hear another tirade about how I brought your actions on myself.

And if I do, I am going to TOTALLY. f*****g. LOSE IT.

I love you and understand where you are coming from and want to be kind to you and respectful of you.

So please, please, please stop asking me to fight the s**t self-esteem, and the depression, and the PTSD. Just let me live with it for the rest of my life. Let me lie down in it and accept that this is all that is left for me, please, because that's the easier road for both of us.

I would just really appreciate it if maybe you could show me tenderness, compassion, and understanding. You know, instead of berating me and ultimately discarding me for being broken. Because, though I know you did not mean for it to end like this, that's a hammer in your hands. And nary a nail in sight.

Love,
Me

Dear .......,

I wondered how and when the time of our friendship's end would come. I'm sad but I understand these things don't last. Perhaps that's why I'm afraid to make more connections. Your communication over these last few years has been a huge source of comfort. Thanks for being there for me for so long. I guess in time we all end up having to go in different directions. I wish I had more of an inclination towards the games and other things you liked so much. My fear of trying new things came in the way of that, I'm afraid. It was great realising another person valued me on some level, and I regret not having someone to talk to everyday. It's a pity we'll never get to kick a soccer ball around.

Cheers mate and if this is the end, know that to me you'll always be my friend.

i

Dear Tumor,

where are you located? Your rebellious cells that underwent rampant mitosis make up a person I loathe but I would be lying if I said I didn't feel slightly sorry for the Dumb Thumb now. How long has she been battling her very own self?

I'm more than a little curious. What type of cancer is it?

Dear you:

I'm glad that everything is right already, thank you because you love me just like i am.
And i'm glad that you are supporting me with my diagnosis and that i have my friend back wich is my husband too.

Thank you again.

Me.

Dear life,

Looks like you got to me again.
I'm not falling apart but I'm too tired to fight back, to make things right.

Exhausted

Mi ne povas lasi iri.

Hi Grandpa.

I miss you.

Love,
E

Dear Me,

You have no control over other people. You only get to control yourself. You have no right to ask them to change what they're doing or to tell them that the way they are treating you is hurtful, destructive, and unfair. The first two are evident. They either can't change or don't care.

You can stop this loop by being what they want to see and having a minimal presence so that you do not stimulate them to do or say something that you will interpret as an attack.

If that's too hard, keep trying. Hang in there. There is a way out of this loop.

In two years years, nine months, and a few days, suicide will be a viable option.

Please remember to make it look like sudden heart failure. That will be a credible cause of death that will spare the innocents a lot of s**t.

I'm on your side.

Love,

Me

Dear God,

You can do anything. You made the world and You made the critters and You made the people. You can do anything.

I have tried, and tried, and tried. I have dashed my heart and bashed by brains trying to make myself into a person that is acceptable to my husband, to his mother, to the few people left in my life who still matter. I want the screaming to stop. I want the sniping to stop. I want the insults to stop. I want to stop being scared.

Please, great God who can do anything You wish, either make me acceptable to them or kill me.

I really don't trust the coroner to write down "sudden cardiac arrest" on the COD line, even if I leave a very polite note explaining my reasons for committing suicide and exactly what drugs and plants I have taken in what quantities. I don't think they'll do me a favor if and fudge the COD just a little bit (all the drugs and plants I'm planning on using do in fact kill by ultimately paralyzing the heart and lungs) if I do them a favor and make the toxicology report easy. I really don't want my kids to live the rest of their lives knowing their mother committed suicide.

But I can't go on like this for very much longer. Please either make me acceptable, or just strike me dead. I'm totally, utterly, and completely exhausted, broken, and without hope. Please just let me die. Come get me. Take me home.

Sincerely,

Your ret*d Child

^BuyerBeware: Isaiah 41:10


Dear You,

Just breathe. There's no need to worry so much. Everything will work out for the best.

p.s. When I said I liked you, I meant it.