Broken Hearts

Dear Glenn Beck, Good sir please forgive my frustrated tone as I am a long time fan of yours, but I have grown rather tired of that endless work. You, Hannity, Limbaugh, Cruz and all of your Tea Party cronies along with Obama, Sharpton, Gore, Clinton and their Liberal cronies are WORKING ME TO DEATH! There's plenty of blame to go around, but I blame you Glenn Beck because you're the only guy who SAYS he can find all the answers. If everyone will just work hard enough the answers will come in time right? Well this is MY time. There is a sickness in the pit of my stomach that is common with exhaustion and there is a taste in my mouth that comes from the unmistakeable smell of rot and decay. It's the putrid smell of Josh's rotting flesh. Josh Duggar. Yes that man. That...
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Don't sh*t where you eat. I believe that's the saying I ignored. I'm so sorry that you feel you've had to take a side, or form an opinion or invent a theory behind what has happened to the marriage of your two friends. I can tell you that I have been you. I formed opinions. I gossiped. I speculated about motivations, intentions and conflicts that I knew nothing about. I seemed to get some satisfaction out of organizing the pain of other peoples lives into some order that I could understand. I'm not proud. I'm sure this divorce is the universe explaining to me in very blunt terms that it is not my place to evaluate the lives of others. I've learned my lesson. I will never know what you think you know about my marriage. I will never know what you've heard or what you've been...
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Dear Affair, It has been several years now but I am lost, I am hurt, I am baffled. I thank you for being within my life for such a short space of time and for showing me what passion truly is, with the essence of one look into one another's eyes, however I also hate you for coming into my life, for chasing me desperately, for promising your love to me, for weeping over me, for pushing me into events I never desired and for breaking my heart more than you could ever imagine. The time I spent with you, albeit we were both married, was exquisite. It made me feel alive, electric and I had the energy to be anything, anyone and feel a goddess. I desired to see you, feel you and hear your voice, as you stated you did with me. I think perhaps in the end you were simply bored for this...
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As I write this I have a chaotic mesh of emotions. The first and most prevalent is love. I love you all so much. You have become such a large portion of the positive aspects of my existence, it’s hard to comprehend how much you mean to me. The few genuinely happy memories I have, are all thanks to you guys. You have made such an enormous impact on my life that I can’t imagine a future without any of you. But the sad truth is we have grown distant. I don’t feel like I can approach you all in the same manner I have before, and I know it is my own doing. This brings me to the next emotion; Regret. We all make mistakes, we all have done things we wish we hadn’t, and for the most part we were able to set things right and move on. But there comes a point where it begins to wear thin, I am...
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I'm done sugar-coating things and putting on a brave face for our families. You know that having a family of your own is not something you want, and despite what you think I know it too. I know you have no desire to have children with me. There will always be a reason, some made sense at the time - you were between jobs and the timing was bad - but since that is no longer valid, your reasons have become just plain mean. I didn't go to university, just a trade college, so I'm not smart enough to teach a child anything academic. My interests are cooking and sports, which are useless, unlike your passion for music. I have no patience, though dealing with you proves otherwise. I am uncaring and aloof, though that didn't stop you from marrying me. Oh and I'm fat... if I have a kid now I'll...
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Something I've just read in one of these open letters really resonates: "I know these feelings will subside and I will look back on it and feel silly for letting it get to me so much but I just don't like the thought that two people I have been close to are giggling behind my back." At the time the "have been close to" was replaced by "am close to". You were giggling with my best friend about me, and then neither of you would tell me what you were giggling about. It really is silly to worry, I know, and afterwards, you just clammed up and said it was a private conversation and my 'best friend' said she's sorry, but you asked that I should please not tell me, and so she felt she just couldn't. From my side, I thought that was a betrayal, but she has since apologised. As for you, you...
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I don't pretend to know what courage or strength it would take to face me. Nor do I care. Why is it not the first thing you knew to do to try to ease the pain. I've been waiting for 31 years now. I know the hole you left in my life, in our lives will grow easier to live with....if only you would face me, tell me you're sorry. I'm not waiting for an explanation. Making me understand why you stabbed my brother until he lay limp underneath you would only horrify me and open the part of that wound that has closed. I just want to hear you say sorry, let me rest, quell my anger. I know where you are, this is a tiny village - this little paradise of a nation near the bottom of the world. But you have never sought me out. None of us. I ache to know you are sorry.
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My friends don't understand the overwhelming calm that I have and the attitude that I have towards spending 23 years of my life with a man who can turn out to be "Gay". I need to tell you why I accept everything you are and everything you have become. I cannot however, deal so well with the jealousy I feel now you are settled and enjoying a particularly quality lifestyle with your 25 year old Asian boyfriend, a man half your age. I've seen you together and I know you love each other, but I fear for your long term relationship not withstanding the age difference. When I first found out your interest in men, our youngest son, was only 2. I was home for very long periods of time alone with three children under 5, as you were in the armed forces and patrolling the seas and guarding the...
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Dear HIV, I hope you’re well. It’s been a while since I’ve written, and I want to take a moment to acknowledge you as another year begins. You’ll recall the contract I required you to sign seven years ago when you took up residence in my body. In this contract, I conceded that your continued tenancy comes with these parameters: You will be quiet. You will not procreate. You will not aggravate, vex, poison, or in any other way influence the cells and functions of the other organs and processes in my body. You will occupy a small, windowless, doorless space approximately the size of the tip of a stickpin in a deep reservoir inside my body, where you will have no nourishment, no visitors, and no hope of escape. Thank you, HIV, for respecting the simple parameters of this...
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Dear People Who Use the “Battle” Metaphor for Other People Who Have the Distinct Displeasure of Cancer, If I die of this relapsed, refractory Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, and you describe me posthumously as having “lost her battle with cancer,” I swear to God I will come back from wherever my soul may have been sent and haunt the living shit out of you for the rest of your days. Perhaps you have never been in a real-life, actual fight or battle. Kindly allow me to explain, then, that a fight, battle, war, skirmish, or what-the-fuck-ever else you want to call it, is something that either adversary reasonably could win with superior manpower and/or firepower. Kindly allow me also to remind you that there is no cure for cancer. That’s why it’s not, you know, called “Breast-itis” or “...
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