Monday, May 14, 2012


Dear Past Loves,

Stop showing up. Stop showing up when I'm not ready - and more often than not I am not ready, unless I have just brushed and flossed and put on red lipstick then sure, show up. I'll let you know when I am ready. But mostly, I just want you to go. I don't want to see pictures of you in a park with her, even if I met her and even if she was fine and even if you and I are fine and even if parks are wonderful places for all humans of all races and relationships to go to. I don't want to see it.

And as for you, I don't want to see that you have liked someone's status. Oh, our digital age, right? Wish I could quote something appropriate by Jean Baudrillard right now. But why? So I could impress you? Well, yeah. Probably. I tried to impress you all last summer. Maybe we both did. Maybe we both had sore feet and high hopes and quotes waiting to be told. But we both got tired and just kinda... faded like the fireworks we never saw together. So that's okay. It really is. I just don't want to see your name ever again, is that too much to ask?

Many of you are married now. That's great. I mean, not great great, but it is what it is. Basically, I'm not mad at you for being married. Well, at least not the majority of you. I just don't want to know about your marriage every time I have some kind of superficial interaction with you. Is this selfish of me? I'm okay if it is.

I liked you. I really really really liked you. But you caught me at just the wrong time. Couldn't you have given me at least a tiny warning that you were about to come into my life? Then maybe I could have prepared and then maybe I wouldn't have gotten scared and then maybe I wouldn't have completely shut you out, only to later realize that yeaaaah maaaybe I should have held on for a bit longer. Well. That's that. I want to say the same things that I've just told my ex, my fling, and my married things - that I don't want to see your pictures, your name, your current happy life situation - but I can't. And that's what I hate the most; the fog that lingers. I want a clear sky.



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