Dear Life...

Dear Life,

I don’t really know how to tell this to you...but, well, I’m rather sick of you. I think it might be time if you and I officially called it quits. We’re over. We’re through.

I know this seems a little harsh, but you have to understand...There is just no way I can see this working. No way in which I can ever see you making up for the incredible hurt and anguish you’ve caused me. And there is much. You’re not who you were when we met and quite frankly, you’re not anything you have ever promised to be. I feel like you are a failed attempt at every turn. A series of lies. A general progression of lost hopes and missing expectations. You’ve thrown me every curve ball you could think to pitch and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the ways in which I have been incapable of meeting up to your ridiculous standards. Your cruel tyranny has left me bitter, cynical, and tired.

I know it seems harsh to place so much of the blame on you, but I can’t help but feel that is where it belongs. Time and time again I did my part and tried my best to pull through – to attempt at making things function – and every time you let me down. You proved to me you weren’t capable of being what you could be... I thought so highly of you. You meant so much to me. But at the end of the day, you became nothing more than just one more thing to deal with.

You’ve caused me enough trouble, enough pain. All on top of the fact it seems as if you only continued to tell me, in every way you could think of, that I was never going to be good enough. That somehow if I were ever to make anything out of myself...I was going to have to do it through you. And maybe that’s true, but I just can’t take it anymore. My entire definition was in how you played out. That, in my mind, is backwards. I feel like you ought to be working out of my definition...not the other way around.

The way you have controlled me has completely stolen the joy away from my very existence. And I can’t go on like this anymore. I need to rediscover who I am...and I have to do that without you. Someday, if I ever figure out who that is, maybe I can look you up again. Maybe we can reconsider how you can fit into the picture then. But as it stands now, I just don’t see how it’s going to be a possibility. I don’ know if it will ever work.

I’m sorry. This is not easy. I really do hope there will again be a day where we might be friends. Until then, I am both saddened and desperate to see you go. I only wish I knew how to make you leave... Please award me the thing you’ve never once allowed, the freedom to exist outside of you...if ever indeed there is a way.

Anika