An Open Letter to Myself - December
Dear Self,
You've really gone and done it now. I'm not sure any part of you remains that isn't tortured, hurt or scarred beyond belief. You really screwed the pooch on this one, self. Nice going. You'd think you'd have learned by now. But that's okay. Because self, you've always had this nice little feature where you can erase the parts of you that you don't want known anymore. And you don't want any of it known anymore. The compassion, caring, love and kindness are all going into that nice little box you keep on reserve for such situations.
Can I say I'm glad, self? No. I fucking hate it. But it's necessary and absolutely crucial to your survival. You have alienated, pushed away and run off everyone you could even remotely call a friend, lover, or family member who isn't related to you by blood or some convoluted sense of pride. Can you count, self? That leaves you with five people total.
Sometimes I wonder, self, why they don't understand. Why they can't get how you are, why they aren't even willing to listen. I wonder why they don't take the time to try - because frankly, self, they killed off the best thing that they will ever have without ever knowing it. It's gone, done, dead and buried and there's nothing anyone can do to stop the path you have now set into motion.
Your mother in law is a royal bitch who cannot understand how her son has come to love someone so different from her own ideals. Your sister in law is the biggest junkie known to man, and cannot seem to understand that, yes, it is possible to love more than one person and that, god forbid should she ever find someone who can put up with her shit instead of immediately shoving a cock down her throat just to shut her up, that she should be so lucky to be able to ALLOW that person to take the time to do what they need to do. And that you write the textbooks her happy ass will be buying for her short stint at ITT tech before she flunks out because she was found dead in a gutter from a heroin overdose brought on by some bad shit that your uncle and aunt in law supplied her.
Self, are you worried that they will read this? Not in the least. In fact, I think you welcome it. Because they set in course a path of motion that made every ounce of love in your body turn to hate. Every seed of nurturing compassion turn to the urge for destruction. And in the process, allowed someone you love to care naught for even a moment how it would harm you.
Harm you? yes. You were stupid self, and allowed yourself to be harmed. But no longer. Because that part of you is DEAD.
Goodnight self,
Your friend,
Caitlin
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