archival : confessionals, round two :
Our past Facebook chat conversations sit in my Facebook inbox.
I read them from their birth to their death. I mourn.
I've been rethinking my idea of leaving you with a letter upon my move.
I've been thinking it will, realistically, bring nothing but drama.
What I want it to bring is clarity. We are both owed some clarity.
I'm not destined to receive any from you, but perhaps I could impart some?
This is exactly what is so foolish about the entire idea.
I need to create distance, not connection.
Even as I stew I think about you every day.
I haven't entirely shaken my care for you, and so bitterness consumes.
What I want you to know is this:
I loved you with every fiber of my being.
I was open, honest, and worthy in both my intentions and actions.
I gave you constant affection. Constant affirmation. Constant loyalty.
I was patient to a fault. You were stubborn and distrustful to a fault.
You will never hear these words. You could never listen to them if you did hear them.
You are a disgrace. I am not happy to know you.
Thank you, for teaching me the lessons I learned, because of you.
No thank you, for leaving the scar of the memory of you in my mind and on my heart.
It will heal, but I will always have the lessons.
So, in the end, you have joined the ranks of the disgraceful past.
I hate you for putting yourself on this list.
I hate that, in the end, you did nothing but disappoint me.
A let down. A failure.
Not mine, yours.
And I sit here and type and cry for you because you have let the world down.
You could have contributed an enlightened mind, an enlightened soul!
You had all the potential and instead you choose to be a burn-out.
I can't stand you. I can't stand you and I loathe you and all I wanted was for you to
BE THE PERSON YOU WANTED TO BE, or kept misleading me with some sales pitch of.
But you don't even attempt towards being that person. And I have to leave you to that life, now.