A is for Ass

L is for Letter (I will never send)

Dear JY,

This is the first letter you ever sent to me:

July 17, 2004

Hey there.
They made me take "Orion" down when there was just a picture of just him on there... I guess I forgot I still had his profile on here. Here's the url (is it visible to you?):

To tell you the truth, Orion belongs to a friend of mine. I was exploiting him for the purpose of meeting women while I was cat sitting for a week. I'm actually quite allergic to cats (according to the allergist), but Orion and I got along great. He had no problem adapting to the life of a bachelor.
The Plymouth/Northville downtowns seem quite similar on the weekends; the old folks and families come in to window shop and eat ice cream. It's not quite as interesting for people watching as a corner in Royal Oak or Ann Arbor, but it's entertaining nonetheless.
I moved to Northville about a year ago. The daily commute from Pontiac to Ann Arbor was starting to wear me out (plus, I outgrew Pontiac). Northville seemed like a sensible, almost-half-way point. I wasn't ready to fully commit to Ann Arbor life... Though I still feel somewhat like a tourist after living here for a year.
I'm pretty sure I ran across your profile before and thought for a moment you were admiring some early Communist propaganda/art in the second picture. I'm also wondering if I saw you at the Heidelberg once. Maybe dancing Salsa or Bachata? If not, I can imagine you there.
Have you been sledding in the Alps before? I haven't been sledding in years (unless you count snowboarding as "sledding standing up". It doesn't seem like the cold would bother you, but do you prefer winter or summer?
Your twice mention of an unelected Bush warmed the cockles of my heart.
Nice to meet you, M
J

I thought that it may be apropos to sever any remaining ties with a letter from me:

I put the last of your things in a yellow envelope today. Using my favorite sharpie, I wrote your name and address from memory. The package sits near the door, and I will mail it soon. The contents are as follows:

1. The battery from your mother's camera. You lent me the camera, a large, unwieldy and expensive model that took crisp photos that made everyone look beautiful, like campfire light. The battery must have fallen out of the bag - the bag I returned on the night you broke up with me. Here' s the battery. I apologize for the 30 pictures of my cats that were left on the camera.

2. A postcard from the local pub. This postcard came shortly before your birthday offering you a free t-shirt and meal on your b-day. You must have thought it would be easier to remember to use it if it was sent to my place. However, getting mail with your name on it is rather upsetting. We never lived together. So, could you call them and tell them you've moved on?

3. Your Dr. Strangelove DVD. I tried to watch this movie, but thought that making out with you would be better entertainment. We ended up entertaining ourselves before the movie ever reached climax . I never finished the DVD; I don't want to. Here it is.

You asked for a rain-check for the lunch I offered to buy you on your birthday. You said let's have lunch later on in September. It's almost October. Rain-checks expire. Mine just did. We've reached our denouement.

But, I still have a few things to say - things that for whatever reason I want you to know.

1. I don't have an eating disorder. (Update: I'm not so sure I'm telling the truth here) I thought I did. But, amazingly once I wasn't eating out and drinking all the time, I started to shrink. Then I started to channel all my anger into going to the gym. Although weight loss is going slowly (as it should), I feel stronger than I ever have and am 30 lbs lighter. I biked 38 miles on Saturday on my mountain bike. I can run a 8 minute mile (although, then I have to walk for a bit). My knee is completely better. My body is so different that I wake up in the middle of the night and can't sleep because I can't get over it. I say this to you because you said in so many words that I was inadequate. I want you to know that I am far from inadequate. I didn't let you down in Switzerland; I had an accident that was devastating to me.

2. I'm not a liar. I don't know where you got off thinking that I was. I didn't hide anything from you. I'm just human. If anything, I shared too much with you. But, I thought you loved me and that I could share what I was concerned about, my fears and my insecurities; I was wrong.

3. You spoiled me too much. And this is not my problem. You said that you received satisfaction from being able to buy me things and take me places. I never asked for anything that you didn't offer. Even the bike, you offered to help and I said no; I wanted to pay for it. Sorry it took me longer than I thought.

4. You violated my trust. I know you had a problem with my weight. During law school when it started to creep back up, I asked you about it. You said it wasn't a problem. But you lied. You came back at me again with the weight issue a few months later. I said I thought I had a problem and I would get help. You said you loved me and wanted to support me. You did both only in words. I should have listened when you said that even if I lost weight, my body wouldn't be your ideal. I should have kicked you out of my bed then. The night before I packed my things from your place - the night you said my affections felt contrived and the music sucked - you broke my heart and my trust.

5. I don't know what you needed to convince yourself about me to treat me like you did when I came to pick up my skis. Were you really that upset over two t-shirts? Or did you just need to grasp onto anything to make this break-up easier for you? It was so sad for me to think that I'd spent almost two-years getting to know you and in a night you became someone I did not recognize.

6. I still feel pain. Maybe I have trouble moving on, but I don't think this reflects poorly on me. I remember writing you a letter on Valentine's Day. I felt those things to the bottom of my heart. I'm intense. I gave you everything I had to give.

I offered to take you to lunch; I offered you my friendship. But, I feel like you aren't respecting the courage and sincerity that stood behind that offer. Your silence leaves your feelings open to my interpretation, and I'm not inclined to view silence in the light most positive to you. Maybe things in your life are difficult or busy or incredibly happy. Maybe you've met someone else. Whatever the reason for your silence, I hope the best for you.

MAM

posted by CV @ 5:51 PM