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The Truth About the Fact: An International Journal of Literary Nonfiction

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The Truth About the Fact: A Journal of Literary Nonfiction is an international journal committed to the idea that excellence in the art of letters can play a vital role in transforming the planet we share.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

A Medley of Thoughts: A Letter I Would Never Send


Dear You,

If I was frail, I wouldn’t be able to withstand your venomous attacks, your verbal whiplashes, nor your soulful glare. If I was too sensitive, it would be easy to mop up my puddle of nothingness because I would quickly evaporate as does a drop of water on sizzling pavement. If I was boring, you wouldn’t be captivated by my very presence, locked in so deeply that you could never leave my side. You know why? Because you have allowed me to tightly wrap an invisible leash around that tattered heart, making it nearly impossible to part from my mystifying trance.

It took three little words to open a can of worms and the worms found a way to bury themselves in your pile of bullshit. I’m not like the others who were prematurely plucked from the bunch and forced to bloom. I open my petals on my own accord. Don’t you dare try to put me in the same worthless box as the opened legged and closed and minded because I am different, contrasting, unrelated, and any other word that means I am incomparable to what you’re used to.

Frail, sensitive, and boring: that’s what you called me; you spat those words in my face and now I’m spitting back. Misery loves company and your company has made me miserable. Such a snake you are, mistakening me for a timid, feeble little mouse, attempting to squeeze the life out of me and swallowing me whole. You attempted to play me like a fool but instead I had you on my lap strumming your strings.

The next time you try to play vampire and suck the spirit out of your next “victim,” I would advise you to make sure they are indeed the “victim.” The more you tried to drain me the stronger I became and the smaller you have become. A leech is nothing without a host. I was no weakling, and definitely no fool; and what you attempted to kill came back and robbed you of your own dignity—or lack thereof. Now you’re crawling around with an empty soul looking to me to revive you of what you've lost. So I ask you, who’s the victim now?


Sincerely,
Me

Jennifer Vassel

Photo Credit: Pregnant Pauses

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