A Letter To My Past

It’s strange.

I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. Fuck, I know. We’ve been two peas in a pod for so long and now I just can’t be.

You don’t realize it, do you?

We’ve grown apart. I’ve changed and you don’t even see it.

Where were you when I needed you the most? All up in your little universe, like you’ve always been, I guess. You say you never quit loving me and you still have the gumption to call me your Wife.

I am not your Wife.

I am not the Siskel to your Ebert.

I am my own person, and I am going out and I am doing things on my own now. And I bloody well like it. I like fighting for my dream and I like not giving up. I like writing until my skin feels raw from exposing myself on paper. I have literally no money, but that hasn’t stopped me from actually doing what I wanted in life.

Quite frankly, I divorced you long before I walked my sexy ass up in this mother. And I was right to do so. Where were you when I was ill? Or when I needed the support? I am but a phone call or email away and yet you never came. I never got what I wanted from you. I never got any affection. You talk about me being a bitch to you, well, bloody hell, you were equally bad.

Don’t pretend like you’re proud of me. It doesn’t become you.

Consider this my official divorce.


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