Dear Kim | Teen Ink

Dear Kim

January 6, 2009
By Anonymous

Dear Kim,
Please don’t be upset with me for writing this. I’m sure that your comprehension of my intentions will become clear as time goes on. I am writing not to tell you of my hatred toward everything you stand for or to beg you to be my friend again. No. These are but worthless grains of sand in an hourglass. I merely want to send you something that I have been wanting to for quite some time.

I felt my heart break today. Yes, I felt the exact moment that has become infamous in all of human culture’s writings on love. That is perhaps the only thing compelling me to write you this now. I see now how truly cold the world can be, in its ever swirling cyclone of love and hate. I see now that no matter how hard you try, love is not possible. It’s very amusing actually. To know that the person who believes in love and destiny most in my life, is the one who proved to me it doesn’t exist. But through all of the emotions, dark thoughts, depression, happiness, relief, and utter hatred for the very air you breathe. I sit here still, on the very bed… in the very sheets that we spent so many nights together in love’s embrace, writing about how I feel nothing. I feel no hate, no love, no happiness, joy, or sorrow. I feel not hopeful for the day ahead but rather, condemned to live it all the way through. I am trapped in an endless world where nothing exists, not even myself.

I do owe you thanks however. You’ve shown me that I am nothing. Nothing I do or say is of consequence because if it were, I’d still be with you ready to celebrate our 365th day of courtship. It’s strange to think it’s been a whole year. Isn’t it? How amazing a length of time one year actually is. I look back on our time together, and I see many things. The first night you came over to my house at night. How afraid I was. The tears I shed when I finally saw you floating down the street ever so gently. You looked like an angel descending from the heavens. I see the first time we kissed. The first time you ever fell asleep in my arms. The first time you awakened me with a kiss. How I almost cried when I saw you waiting to greet me at the airport. Our first dinner. The first time you said “I love you”.

I remember these things and I smile. Although those things are gone and forgotten by you, I still remember. And I do not regret. I do not regret giving my virginity to you. I do not regret spending countless dollars on you. I do not regret looking for three days to find a particular sundress just to see you smile. And I certainly do not regret my decision to be your boyfriend. You are to this day the most loved person I have ever had the honor of having in my life, and that is why I believe I owe you this letter. Do what you will. Burn it, make fun of it, keep it. Again, nothing any of us do is of consequence.

My heart broke today when I read your comments on Juliette’s myspace. I was not upset at your actions for I had done similar things myself. The way you said the things you said, so happily and carefree… it was devastating. But that may be what you wanted I’m unsure. I didn’t know what to do… for the first time in my life I had thoughts… terrible thoughts… about doing things. To myself. To others. I’m very happy and glad that I did not act on them. I wanted you to know that so maybe if, god forbid, you’re in a similar situation with another gentleman, you’ll be a little bit wiser with your actions.


Now, of course, I do not care about anything done against me or out of anger toward me. As I have said, nothing you do can hurt me anymore. I ask nothing of you but remember the time we had together. If you regret it, fine. You will remember and you will know that love and everything surrounding it or anything else you know to be real is a lie. Don’t worry about me and don’t blame yourself. This is something I need in order to free myself from this eternal Hell I’ve come to know so well.

This is the last time I will write to you Kim. But know that you will always be in my heart, no matter how much you’d like not to be.


Love,




UNSIGNED


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