Open Letter

I read through some old email messages from you today. I got depressed and came close to tears before I finally had to stop reading. Things have changed so much since last fall. You've changed.

I don't know where you are or what you're doing. I guess that's nothing new - you've perfected the disappearing act.

"Dear friend" you once called me. Was it true? Is it true now?

I never know where I stand. What am I to you? If I'm such a dear friend, then why is it so hard to communicate, to be honest?

I value honesty above all things. You value avoidance and theatrics. Clearly, we don't see eye to eye in this regard.

You once sought me out for conversation, advice, comfort, a brief escape from your boredom and loneliness. I was always there. I wanted to be - I liked you. You were funny, kind, and open, even though I could see you were protecting yourself. There was something endearing about you that made me want to keep hanging on, even when you were a complete asshole... even when you lied to me.

Did you think I wouldn't notice? You are so transparent sometimes.

But despite the fact that I can see through your misrepresentations, I still allow you to lead me astray. So many empty promises you've made. I get foolishly excited about each one, and then feel hurt and let down when it doesn't materialize. I suppose it's my own fault for being naive and having too much trust, expecting too much.

I try hard not to expect anything from you, because I honestly don't think you owe me anything. But it's the way you set me up. You give little hints and suggestions that something more might be coming. You used to say that you might text me or call me up one day, out of the blue, and that I should be ready for you. It never happened.

She said you'd been trying to call me, but my phone never rang. You asked for my address - I'm not sure why I gave it to you. Nothing ever came, and I'm pretty sure you're not going to show up here. Not that I want you to.

When opportunity presents itself, you always dodge out. But you can never just talk to me about it and let me know, so I'm always left wondering. I never know what happened or why, until long after the fact, if at all. It's happened three different times now.

What happened this time?

I guess it doesn't matter. It's been so long since we had a real conversation, I don't even know what we'd talk about now. I have no idea what's been going on in your life for the last 3 months, and you don't know anything about me anymore.

I'm tired of all this. Exhausted. Exasperated, even. I can't keep wondering and worrying, waiting endlessly. You have no idea what this does to me. It's painful.

Look me up some day when you're not too busy to keep in touch, and when you care enough not to leave me hanging on empty words and meaningless mystery.

Until then... I'm done.


I wonder what it's like
seeing through your eyes
You've offered me to have a try
but I was always late
The filters that I use
give me an excuse
I take away what's real
I feel it and it blows my fuse
I hang around
for another round
I'm hanging around
for another round
I'm hanging on
to the same old song
I hang around
for another round
Until something stops me


You had to know it was coming.