Selective Misery

Jared,

You are relentless trying to fool with me.  It doesn’t matter.  You had run out of blows when you mentioned my unborn child.  Taunting me with the former love of my life was only for your pleasure.

You’re right, Jared.  Don’t get too smug yet, read the rest of the letter.

You’re right; we are alike in a lot of ways.

  • Food-driven animal
  • Emotional addict
  • Asthma

You’re still wrong to think I hate myself for who I am.  Unlike you I’ve grown through my pain far enough to accept myself.  You pretend to cherish all of our ugly moments as the highlights of our brotherhood.  Feeding on your own misery is a suicide recipe.  I finally left the kitchen.

Whatever you want, Jared…I don’t have it.  Libby didn’t have it either.

I don’t want to hurt like you or suffer like her.  Be a hero for yourself, Jared.  Please set yourself free.

Sincerely,

Jarred

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Posted on May 13, 2017, in Clock Block, Dark Comedy, Fiction, Letter, poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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