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.


One thought on “A Letter To My Past

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.