Monday, December 3, 2007

Dear Tall, Dark, & Handsome

I am tired of being strong. I am so very tired of working to hold this relationship together while you continually fall apart on me. But mostly, I am tired of people viewing my stiff upper lip and confident stance as a testament to my character, when really it’s nothing more than the façade I put on day by day so you’ll be able to make it to the evening. People call me stable, safe, secure, strong, they treat me like a modern day heroine, simply because I am floundering to keep this emotional rollercoaster we call a relationship together.

But I am through, or at least I think I’d like to be. Too long I’ve been the provider, the philanthropist, the dominant force in this little attempt at playing house. I’ve held your head above water for too long, I feel like I’m drowning now too. I was there for you when you checked into rehab, I drove the hour long drive after you when you stole the car and ran away in the middle of the night, I’ve been your shoulder to cry on, your empathetic party to vent to, a lover and a therapist all rolled into one, for as long as you needed whenever you needed…I can’t keep doing this.

I am ashamed, but I am desperate. I want to be treated like the damsel in distress. I used to pride myself for being an independent woman, until our little relationship exploded into chaos, and you started to cling to me like I was the only solid substance in your life. I am sorry things have gone so horribly for you, I used to feel very deeply for you on that note, but I can’t keep sinking into your perpetual gloom. I want to be happy, so I’m cutting myself free of you.

So goodbye to the calls in the middle of the night, goodbye to the constant complaining, goodbye to you treating mental illness as if it were some sort of “get out of jail free” card, and goodbye to constantly doubting myself because I feel to do anything solely for me, means I am going to send you into a manic fit. We had fun, I thought I loved you, but the dark mood has worn me out.

I am going to find someone who can take care of me, so I can take care of them.

Your Baby Doll.

Dear Robot

Next month will be two years since I left you. Two years since that day I called you and told you that I would not be coming back home to ...