Dear "You"...From "Me"-Letters Unsent

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Dear Daddy--

I want you to know I'm really sorry about what happened. You know that-- I know you know that-- because I tell you in my dreams at least once a week and you always tell me that it doesn't matter, it's over with now, we have work to get done. Then you give me an Indian burn and laugh. So I know it's OK with you.

It's not OK with me. I knew you weren't OK when you didn't answer the phone for the second day running. I knew Mom was the only other person who really gave a damn about you, and I knew she couldn't do anything from the nursing home. I knew I should have been the f**k out of Arkansas and on my way back to West Virginia without a word to anyone other than, "I'm going."

After TWO days. NOT seven. Didn't matter what I was going to find when I got there, or what I could have done about it. What mattered was the COMING.

I knew I never should have left you alone there in the first place. I knew I should have come home when Mom had the stroke.

I told people. They told me I was wrong. I told myself that they must be right, that I was just being a dumb Aspie, that they were smarter and more normal and better than me and they knew best. I told myself I had to comply with their perceptions or pay the price, and I did not want to pay in being cast out again, losing Hubby and having to fight for the kids and then raise them alone (if I could even get custody).

I believed those things would happen.

I did not have the courage to listen to myself, and now I can't take it back or make it up or fix it. Ever. You're gone.

I'm sorry I couldn't take care of Mom. Nobody would help me-- not her sisters (like I expected it), not the Tennants (again, like I expected it), not even Hubby. Mawmaw and Grandma did what they could, but they're Mawmaw and Grandma. What they could was only so much. They listened, but they could not help with the kids or give me advice or help me get myself calmed down. You were always the one who did that. My friends tried, but they were too few and too busy and too far away.

I could have kept trying. Maybe I should have kept trying. I was overwhelmed-- three kids, all Mom's needs, pregnant, sick, hassled on all sides, afraid, and alone. I was going to drop a ball, and that ball was not going to be an unpaid bill or an expired inspection sticker or some stinky dishes or chewed-up rotors. That ball was going to be a person, and the person could very realistically get killed. Die. Because I dropped the ball.

To borrow a metaphor from Nicholas Sparks, all the balls were glass balls. And I couldn't keep them all in the air. So I chose to lay some down before one or more got broken. I think you would tell me I did the right thing. Protect the people. Always protect the people.

When I went to the ER and that stupid nurse tried to take the kids from me because I was sick and scared and autistic and alone, I got scared. I didn't want to lose my family or get anyone hurt. Everyone told me I couldn't do it, and I believed them.

They must have been right-- I tried the best I could think to try, but the people did not get protected. All the people got hurt.

I'm sorry about the mess that got made out of your will. I swear, Debbie's the one who did it, not me. No-- that's not true. I'm an equal participant. I chose to stand up to her. But, Daddy, I swear, she wanted to cast me out without a single souvenir, she wanted to take the homeplace from me and from Mom, all because I was strange and that made me bad in her eyes. Everyone else says she's just out to grub every dime she can get out of our family-- that she read your obit in the paper and smelled money and that's why she came back after not speaking to Mom for eight years. I don't think so-- I think she wanted to punish me for not being A Good Human Being in her eyes. I tried to be nice to her, but it did no good. I was strange and she didn't understand and that made me bad. I tried to explain-- she did not want to learn. Hubby says she took the information and used it to manipulate me. I don't know about that, but I do know that she didn't want to understand. I was strange and that made me bad and that was all she needed to know.

Everyone says you'd be proud of me for standing up for myself, for trying to make things go the way you and me and Mom talked about. I'm not so sure.

I'm sorry I was able to stand up when it mattered least, but not when it mattered most. It is a lot easier to stand up when people are standing behind you. They all stood behind me when it was Debbie I was fighting and things I was fighting for. When it was circumstances that I was fighting and people I was fighting for, I was all alone. More than all alone-- Hubby and the in-laws and the Tennants and society in general were all things I was up against, part of the circumstances.

I can't begrudge them that. They are what they are, and that's all they can be. It's my failure. They all tell me it's not, but it is. I know what's true.

I said something back there about being autistic. Yeah. I know. I walk and I talk and everything. Well, they've decided it's a spectrum-- there are people with all ranges of difficulties and abilities. There's Rain Man. And then there's me.

And Grandpa Ken. Very high-functioning. Very smart. Almost normal. Almost. Almost, but still different. In a lot of people's eyes, wrong.

Me, and Grandpa, and you. I never told you that I thought-- knew, actually-- that I inherited it from you. I never mentioned "Asperger's syndrome" or "autism" or "autistic spectrum" around you. I didn't WANT you to know.

Because-- it was obvious who I got it from. I always was cut right out of your ass. The temper, the loud voice, the laughter, the strange mannerisms, the tendency to show my emotions much too readily. The sense of humor that people didn't get and didn't like. The tendency to get passionate and run on at the mouth. The statement that, "I know I'm me, I know I'm decent, and f**k 'em if they can't take a joke."

The biggest difference between you and me was: I was ashamed of it and tried to hide it because I knew there was something wrong with it, and you were just you. I knew it was something wrong and as soon as I could I went to Morgantown and started digging until I found out what it was called. You went to work in the coal mines and smoked a lot of dope and danced around flapping your arms like a chicken. I was called "f**kup" and "Freak" and I hated it. You were called "Crazy Al" and "Manchild" and you loved it. I was wretched and miserable and shut out, and you were for the most part delightfully happy in your own little world.

I hated being me and you loved being you. For years I was ashamed of you, and I didn't want you to be ashamed of you too. When I got older, I realized how much wiser you were than I-- and I didn't want you to be ashamed of you too. You held, naively and innocently, a happiness and simple joy in life that I had to learn to reach out for ever so tentatively-- and I did not EVER EVER EVER want you to see yourself as "something wrong," as "a syndrome" or "a pathology," and feel about yourself the way I had felt for all of 25 years that I could remember. Your childlike happiness and simple joy, your complete and total lack of self-consciousness-- I did not EVER EVER EVER want to see you stripped of those things.

Neither did Mom. I always told you she was smarter with half a brain than a lot of people were with a whole one. I think by the end of it all, you knew I was right. You were a beautiful, joyful specimen of a man, precious to us, a real live diamond in the rough. I guess we forgot that diamonds are tough, because neither of us ever wanted to see you lose your YOU, or even see it scraped or scarred or damaged in any way.

And we never had to. From what I'm able to piece together of your last day, you got up, smoked a joint and watched Morning Joe, talked to me, went down to Wade's and had some coffee and a couple of cigarettes and a bull session, came home, balanced your checkbook, probably forgot to take your meds, laid down to take a nap before you went in to see Mom, and died.

I want you to know so many things, but mostly that I am sorry for the way things ended. And that I am GLAD, GLAD, GLAD, GLAD, GLAD for the way things went up until then. You were an awesome parent and a wonderful husband and an amazing grandfather and a fine human being. You taught me a lot. You're still teaching me things.

I miss you, Daddy. I love you.

--Boo

"While walking out one evening
not knowing where to go,
just to pass the time away
before we held our show,
I heard a little Mission band
play with all their might.
I gave my soul to Jesus
and left the show that night.

The day will soon be over
and evening will be done.
No more gems to be gathered,
so let us all press on.
When Jesus comes to claim us
and says 'It is enough,'
the diamonds will be shining
no longer in the rough."

--John Prine, "Diamonds In The Rough"

Surprise, surprise, an outing comes up which I actually look forward to and feel equipped to deal with, and you go and bring me down again. I know you want me to be happy, but being your little shut-in is worse than me having a drink now and again – yet you act like it’s the end of the world. I’ve made progress, despite what you think, and I’ve done it without your help. I suppose that’s why you have to take every chance to attack me, but you know what, f**k you. It’s your problem, so you deal with it. I’m not having anyone, especially you, make me feel like s**t again.

Dear World,

Looks like I'm back on my feet again. Or one foot, anyway.

With cleats.

I don't think I can be anything other than myself. Even silence can only be maintained for a few years at a stretch-- and that's actually detrimental to my mental health. I have discovered something-- when I peel all the social conditioning and all the "You oughta be's" away, deep down underneath it all, I actually LIKE myself.

I actually might be a little bit conceited. Like, I actually might think I have some good ideas, and a pretty good grip on life, and I might be pretty darn cool.

I might just like me. My husband might just like me. My friends might just like me-- and maybe they aren't many, but they're REAL. GOOD. FRIENDS. The kind of people who talk to you when you can't stop crying. They say if you find ONE person like that in a lifetime, you've been lucky.

I have FIVE. Maybe SIX. They've been around for a decade or more. Truth be told, I think that means my s**t is some pretty good shit-- and my s**t is REAL.

I'm back. On my feet. Or one foot, anyway.

With CLEATS.

I think I'm a hell of a lot more OK than you told me I was.

I think it's going to be harder to convince me I'm not this time.

I'm not going to try to take you on, World. I'm not going to try to challenge you to a fight.

I don't want to fight.

Actually, World, a lot of the time I think you're pretty cool, too.

What I actually want, actually, is just to live my life, on some approximation of my terms, in a reasonable degree of peace. That's exactly what I intend to do.

But be advised, World-- You do have a tendency of throwing out the occasional ill-timed f**ktard. I've always bowed down for f**ktards.

This time, we're doing things differently.

I'm not bowing down for any more fucktardliness. I'm tired of being fucktarded.

I'm back.

I'm me.

I love you.

Buyer, beware.

Dear Rhonda,

If you think that I'm going to be at Stepping Stones tomorrow, you are crazy. I need to talk to somebody who shows empathy. I'm sick of the way that you try to logic me out of my problems. I don't need logic, I need somebody supportive who cares. I also can't believe that you still don't get that I have Anxiety as well as Depression. What year did you graduate High School again? I want a rough idea of how old you are, so that I can throw a Good Riddance party for you at the clubhouse.

CockneyRebel

Dear Mom,

I think what you did at Trick-or-Treat last night was really f****d up. I understand that you were tired and did not feel well. I was tired and did not feel well too. Frankly, I spent the whole evening going minute-to-minute hoping I would not puke and trying not to cry.

Nevertheless. You spent three weeks building the kids up about how we'd go over to "Aunt Jenny's" neighborhood because it was a great place to trick-or-treat. Patrick has been asking me all day, every day, for two weeks if it was Halloween yet.

Then you took them out, let them do a couple blocks in the neighborhood where YOU wanted to look at the lights to get them started. Whet their excitement a little.

Then you made me drive THROUGH all eighteen blocks of "Aunt Jenny's" neighborhood at 3 mph. With the kids sitting in the back seat drooling, looking at all the people trick or treating. The displays. The people with the popcorn stand-- you even made a point to POINT THAT ONE OUT.

They were so eager they were practically drooling.

And when I parked the car, took a deep breath, and said, "OK. Let's go," you said, "No. There's too many people. Let's go home."

And you carry on about how selfish I am because I cannot always hide my emotions. Because I need some quiet time after I've dealt with something like that. Because I am not a social butterfly at family holiday functions.

I understand not wanting to deal with it. I didn't want to deal with it. But we'd built them up to it and then brought them there, and I love my kids, so I was going to suck it up and deal with it.

If you don't want to deal with it, you don't build the kids up for it. You don't take them to look at what they're not getting. You keep your mouth shut about it, or you build up something you do want to deal with instead.

If you had just said, "I don't want to deal with trick-or-treat," I could have made plans for a Halloween party at home. Popcorn and cookies and candy and scary movies or something.

I've asked myself if this is about me being upset because my script didn't get followed. I don't think it is. I'm not the one who wrote the script for last night. The only expectation I had was exactly what you'd spent three weeks telling us would happen: We would go over there and trick-or-treat. The only other expectation I had was having sore feet, fried nerves, and sugar-cracked kids by the end of it all. I don't think this is about my unrealistic AS expectations.

You don't build kids up and then pull the rug out from under them. That's how you raise children that become mistrustful, resentful adults with a tendency to suppress their upset until they rage.

Like your son.

I'm really pissed off about what you did, Mom. And I don't have the balls to tell you.

I'm hoping the next time you start building something up, I'll have the balls to tell you to just stop before you set the kids up for another letdown.

Next Halloween, I will take the kids out trick-or-treating. If you're around, you will not be invited.

Sincerely,
Your Loving Daughter-In-Law

PS-- And they say there's something wrong with me. SHEESH!

Hey Rodelle,

About last summer, I'm sorry about misleading you and using you. I think I was pretty straight-forward in my intentions, I was mostly just very depressed that summer. I really didn't understand what I did until a year later. I just really wanted to apologize mainly cause I was a pretty sh***y person to get involved with at the time. I didn't realize the adverse impact I had on you.

I hope since then you've had better luck with girls. Well whatever your relationship status is, single, kinda seeing someone, or in a real relationship, best of luck. Hope post-army life is treating fine. I don't have any urge to rehash contact with you and it was good that you unfriended me facebook. I just thought I owed you an apology.

So I beg you not to respond to this message,

Lindsey

*Cat is an assumed name of my Guild Master in a MMORPG.


- 4 months ago.

Hi Cat.

Go straight to the point ; it's enough, what did your last slave died of ? I really enjoyed the guild. And now, what's the f**k's wrong with the guild ? Does all the members suddenly become emo ? They can't assume one f***ing criticism, it's too much for them ?

I'm not at your beck and call. The guild that I knew don't exists anymore. It's just an union of f***ing communitarianists and double-faced persons. And you're one of them, you're as much double-faced than them. You have always been double-faced with me. I've already asked you one, only ONE f***ing reason on why they insulting me when I do ONE criticism, you totally ignored that, because there's no reason, so why did you agree that they were right ? Communautarism. Pfff.

It's a complete waste of time to stay here. I'm not playing to be insulted by some mads guys. Go back to your precious totally close-minded NT community, pretending to be "open-minded" and "accepting criticism". You have two months before the dissolution of the guild, you will see.


----------------

I was right. I've no other unsent letters/mails, I always send them. :<

sMeow.

Father,

So one of your neighbours in your new house has mental health problems and yells at night.
In another house.
Where you are completely safe from her.

Let me remind you: 4am (until I had to get out of bed, and since I get to bed late no matter how tired I am, I lost a lot of sleep because of this), countless times, sitting at the computer that is a few metres from my bedroom door, talking "to yourself" about how lazy and what a burden your children were, saying "f**k them all", and "I wish the f*****g kids were dead", and generally spewing frightening vitriol.

This picture sums up my sympathies about your neighbour:



- Rachel

Dear you,

I wish you existed.

- Me

Dear World,

Please stop throwing so much s*** at me - I can't deal with this anymore please, just let these next few weeks be easier than the past few and then itl be christmas and itl all be over for a month, please just stop making everything go and mess up at once, I can't keep doing this.

And to think this is just university.

Love

Me

Dear Grandfather

I miss you and can not accept the fact that you have died.
It has been 5 years and I can still remember your voice perfectly and see your face in my mind.
I don't believe in god and heaven but right now I really want to more than ever.

It seemed like you were the only person that respected me. I also respected you more than anyone in the world.
I hated seeing suffer and I hate the hospital for not caring about their patients.

All I have left of you is a few items and thousands of memories. I wish I had spirituality sometimes so I wouldn't feel so empty inside.
I know you were happy with your faith.
I must explian to you that I have tried with my entire mind to be a christian and please the family. I can not believe that jesus christ rose from the dead and never will.
The entire bible was meant to be symbolic anyway.
I do belive that a god created the earth because the big bang theorey i

Dear computer

I hate you right now because I was not done with my last letter to my dead grand father.
I was having a very deep coversation. I am very angry that you bastard computer submitted my last post with out my finger guiding you to the submit button.
Now I look like a damn idiot.
I hate the mouse on this computer. You touch it once and it goes everywhere.
I don't really know too much about computers. My family thinks I should be a computer genius because I have aspergers.
Damn computer!

Dear -------,
though you think you are a perfectly appealing, handsome, rich, sophisticated, aware, spiritual, and lovely person you aren't and a lot of people besides me think so
the big dragon that lives on our roof is going to barbecue you before throwing you into lake erie

To ____,

I can't understand how someone can claim to care for someone and then cut them off without looking back, as if they never existed! Did you not think it would hurt me? Did you think I'd just be upset for a short time and then forget? I wish I COULD forget about you, take every f^cking memory and delete it forever, like I did your messages and texts and emails. But the brain doesn't work like email, unfortunately. I don't even want the GOOD memories, because they just remind me of one more FAILURE of a relationship. I wish you'd never contacted me. I'd rather not have a relationship or friendship than have it end the way this one did, because it hurts too much to make a very rare connection and have it just thrown away like yesterday's trash. I have trouble believing ANYONE will refrain from throwing me away that way, even someone I really care for and would LIKE to tell how I feel won't be hearing about it because I don't want to ruin the friendship we have. And you didn't even have the decency to explain why things went the way they did.

And yet I can't hate you. There's a romanian song that says "Nu te blestem, prea mult te-am iubit...drum bun si să fii fericit" which means "I don't curse you, I loved you too much, have a good trip (life) and may you be happy". I wish that for you. I'm pathetic. Sometimes I think if I could only get REALLY angry and hate, I would get rid of all the pain, that I'd be less down on myself, but I just can't. I wish I could, at least for the way you cut me off and seemingly never looked back, acted like you wanted nothing to do with me. Only a real jerk would do that to someone who by his own admission didn't do anything wrong, right? Damn, I can't even get myself to think that...how pathetic is that???

Just give me a f^cking delete button so I don't have to think about this any more. Over a year is enough!

~Kate

Dear Justin Bieber,
You should never say never to a child that could be yours.
Yours Sincerely, your condom you didn't wear.

Dear Kevin,

I'm pretty sure you are reading this site. Yes, I have a feeling.
You can choose to never come back here again or not stalk me...but would that do you any good?
I'm probably gonna stop posting whatever about being depressed about us breaking up.
I want to move on with my life.
But, there is a certain sense of grasping at straws security to know that you come on here. Not that I think we ever have a chance again.
Just that you still want to know what happens with my life.
I saw you unsubscribe from my fb page last week.
I understand why.
Haha, after a while those punches get hard to bear.
I was wondering though, why didn't you subscribe to my real page?
It'd give me the satisfaction of knowing you still care.
Because I know you do.
You care as my first love who loves me, but can't love a certain part of me.
Which basically disqualifies you or I from having romantic feelings for each other.
It hurts. You and I know this.
But apparently it's for the best....no, it is for the best.
Hey, did you know I stopped visiting our messages this week (not that you should block me, I just was able to learn some control that way).
I also took your poem and cologne and put it up in a box in a shelf way up in my closet.
I might even put away the pictures on my computer homepage to storage somewhere.
It still hurts though.
I saw your texts today at the gym during my 4 hour workout, and I about started crying....had to throw the phone away from me and take deep breaths so I wouldn't freak out.
Then I sang some songs.
If you don't remember, I love music...I actually adore it.
I wrote a song about love, and I doubt you saw it.
It's actually pretty positive, which is surprising consider how messed up I was that day.
But it's awesome.
I think so, others think so.
Though, someone gave me a thumbs down on it...so I gave myself a thumbs up to make it better.
Anyways. I'm getting off track.
Idk what my point of this letter was.
Maybe to get out some unresolved feelings?
Yea...that's it.
I wanted to point something out to you (oh, it's part of the....I just thought of something that would have been awesome in that moment, but it's too late now kind of things) you were saying how were abhorred that I could take direction ad have someone tell me how to live my life. Well, if you think about it, those anti-mormon articles you were reading...they were telling you what questions to ask, and how to think. I honestly think that is worse then telling you how to live your life. At least with the book of mormon, and other things, they give you what they know to be true...and ask you to think about it...to pray about it. Those articles, they took a few statistics and used made-up or misquoted things to make a point. Did they ask you to pray about it? No. Just read this. That's it. That's how you should think because we are a magazine or company or whatever. We did a little bit of research WE did. Listen to what we say kid, we are right. So, you were being hypocritical there. Wish I could've thought that in the moment....but maybe if I had been a better fighter, our failing relationship would have just hurt more when it ended.
Oh! I asked my mom about something. That is a lie. They never told her about that when she got married. It's the couple's decision .
Somehow I already knew that.
But that article confused me.
Congratulations, you were the first thing to really shake my testimony, how does that feel? Scary.
Because I knew that's why you ran.
I wavered, and you needed a strong support in that area.
Anyways, I still have the issue, and until I get rid of it, I will never be able to be happy with a man in marriage, because it's basically the sae thing as looking at stuff.
So, I'm gonna get rid of it.
When I do, I have a feeling, some wonderful LDS guy with blue eyes will come along and sweep me off my feet, we will get married, and we will be in love in every single way shape and form (sorry to the other people reading this...if it is a bit graphic).
Think on that awhile and what you missed out on.
Just saying.
I think you know how amazing I am.
But it was your ego.
Your ego said NO, we can't trust anyone.
So even for the person that you cried with (yes, you sniffled in the video, ad you cried with me the day you had to leave Idaho) even for the person with whom you laughed uproariously with, even for the person with you stayed up all night talking to and still didn't want to stop, even with all that....you couldn't trust me because of my religion element.
That makes me sad.
And while I'm getting it all out here.
Do you know what my #1 reason I was angry at you after we broke-up was?
It wasn't the disgusting things you did with your previous gf that made me wish I had never kissed you.
It wasn't that you were reading anti-mormon articles (which I'm sure there were more behind my back) and tested my testimony.

No.

It was that you knew all along.

You knew we wouldn't work out. You knew that I was religious and you weren't You knew you ahd done all that bad stuff. You knew, you knew, you knew....and you lied. You said you'd always be with me. You said I couldn't scare you away, you said forever and always.

You lied to yourself saying you could, and you lied to me by saying you could and you would because you loved and cared for me.

That's what hurts the most.

As the song "ex-girlfriend" says so perfectly: 'why'd you have to go and pick me, when you knew that we were different completely?"

You knew every step of the way.

I mean, even in that poem, you said if things don't work out alright, that I shouldn't hesitate to act on a chance for another that you won't give me a fight. (summarized because I am not looking back there right now).

My friend even recognized those were warning signs and that you never took me seriously. But, you know what, I've matured. I'm not going to jump to conclusions. I a going to stand in the middle. You probably always had a thought in your mind that we weren't meant for each other. You knew, you knew, you knew. I didn't. I was in fairy-tale land where I trust the other person with 100% of your heart. If you had trusted me...you wouldn't have done all those things, you would have been honest.

So yeah, it's like nbd, just the major reason I am in pain right now and might be depressed.

I've actually lost weight, but I suppose that is from not eating and sleeping at weird hours of the day/night.

But here now I've become all emotional.

I still care for you on a friend-based level....we understood so much about each other and related.
That's why I was sad when you unsubscribed...I lost a boyfriend, a love, and my best friend.

Now I'm making new friends and rebuilding some friendships that I neglected while we were together.

Proud of me?
I'm all grown-up.

My point of this is to say, I'm not ready to talk to you again, or even see your wall posts.
But I like that you are still seeing my life...even if it is through the limited WP window.
I'm not gonna beg you to stay, ha. I'm done being clingy.
Yet, I am going to tell you that it is nice that you still read/watch those things.
It makes me feel like I still have you as a friend.
Not that we could be friends on fb yet...probably not until I get out into the dating world.
(Hopefully soon, all the good ones are becoming taken and everyone is scrambling to find someone and I don't want to settle)
So, until then stay on here and just let me keep that token, of your friendship (which is ironically where we started...so it's like a circle and then a line...so like a lollipop....because I'm a sucker, haha...still punny as ever )
Your decision.

I am applying for jobs places, I am working out again (turns out I just had insanely tight muscles on the brink of injury, but we caught it), and I am going to see a neuro-psychiatrist.

That's good news.

I've probably repeated myself a million times through this, oh well, who gives a crap, haha.

I'm not 100% sure if you are reading this. I remember you and 1 other friend are basically the only people who read/think about everything I say...which is a nice quality in a friend (lol, now you are going to try and forget it all...jk, but maybe..I honestly don't know wha sate you are in right now).
The fist few days, I didn't care if you died...to be very very blunt. Then I wanted you to go through pain, then ridicule. Now I just want you to understand what an amazing opportunity you had at love. Someone who would've tried her very best to make the relationship work, and was willing to do whatever it took. Someone who was patient through her boyfirend ignoring her on her birthday and yelling at her and not getting her a present (ha! you really got me one... I'm sure... :eyeroll: you are just probably waiting till a girl can actually endure a relationship with you *burn* (or guy, ahahahhahahaha ). You missed out on someone amazing. I missed out on a boy, a boy who didn't understand what love meant or else he wouldn't have said it without meaning it.

You don't have to miss out on seeing me be awesome though.
I will find a way to be happy, even if it hurts (ironically....as if my life isn't still ironic...don't worry, you didn't mess that up for me. )
You might not even have to miss out on a friendship one of these days....when I'm completely over you romantically. I'll get back to ya on that.

Now you have a choice:
continue to stay on this site and do one last nice thing
leave with me knowing (because I will, I have my ways) and lose every shred of respect I ever had for you

(Lol, or you could be not stalking me, and this is just a futile attempt of talking to myself, in which case, me and I get along wonderfully with myself and I was trying to help myself resolve some of these emotions...and it may have helped me too. )

Have a good day. Read this, think it over.
I bet you are still praying every day, good for you.
I am going to start reading my scriptures every day again.
After that one Skype date where we forgot to, it was all downhill from there.

It's uphill now.
I'm getting better.
Hope you understand implications, ramifications, and explanations.

GOOD DAY SIR!

Sincerely, Carissa, your ex-girlfriend.