Product of Silence
This post inspired by Kristine over at Wait in the Van and is a
This versions prompt is “a letter you never intend send”
Heh. Off the top of my head I could do
two three of them no sweat. Theoretically, one of them I’d never have to send because it’d be to me. Also theoretically, that might be the more interesting letter to post. Maybe I’ll do all three. Or not.
Here goes one of them.
Dear _ _ _ _,
You are fooled by your job. Your job allows you to appear to be grown up and mature. In reality you just tick items off a list, keeping up with the day to day requirements of the institution by which you are employed. You are fortunate there is a cycle to your job, anticipating things is so much simpler when you know what’s coming.
I find you to be emotionally immature. For now, you are placating a therapist and your friends at your meetings. They don’t understand the true nature of your immaturity, your failure to respond to situations in a mature, adult manner. You don’t see it because you think your reactions are perfectly acceptable.
I have trouble confiding in you because of these reactions. I tried testing the waters with a few innocuous observations. Your reactions, as expected, were overboard.
You’ve managed to fool people about your other little problem too – especially the therapist. She almost had ME convinced – but I resisted. Instead, I decided to sit back and wait. I work hard at not noticing every little detail when I get home like I had to do for so long. But it’s a learned habit, one that is harder to unlearn and may yet pay dividends in the future.
In the mean time I sit back and relax, waiting for the hammer to fall, because I am sure that one day you will slip too far and not be able to reel yourself back in. When that happens, you need to know two things:
A – I told you so.
B – This is why I took my commission for the estate settlement.
I will not tolerate another binge and I will not leave the house I have poured my blood, sweat and tears into. I wish you luck at either growing up, getting sober or finding a place to live.
I don’t think Kristine was expecting anything quite so dark. Maybe next time around I can be a little (or a LOT) lighter.