Opinion Piece: A Letter

This one's been a while in coming. I thought I'd do it more seriously, but last night I had a whimsy, and this is what came out of it.

Consider this something like an open letter.

Dear GW,

I know things have been strained between us for a while. I’m not blameless; my attention has wandered, and I haven’t stayed as true as I think you’d have liked.

Do you remember when we first met?

London, summer of ’98. I was just kid, really, and you were still young. You might not have been as stunning as you’ve become, what with the plastic facelift and all, but it was love at first sight.

I thought I’d probably never see you again. And then, a couple of years later, a friend found that bookshop you liked hanging out in, and reintroduced us. And we were on and off almost from the beginning.

In the years since, we’ve spent many evenings together, some alone, some in the company of others. I’d like to think we’ve had fun together.

Lately, though, things have changed, haven’t they? You’ve been a real bitch at times – I can’t remember you ever being that way before – and I might have said things too. And I’ve come to realize you want someone younger, really. I see the way you go after the kids, even here where they don’t understand half of what you’re saying. Maybe I’m too old for your tastes.

You’ve lost a lot of your spark. The thing that drew me to you, once I got past the pretty exterior. You used to care. Even when your head tried steering you towards a harsh and cynical reality, your heart seemed true. What happened? You seem crazed lately, with your secrets and your greed.

You don’t come to the bookshop as much any more. Used to be, you dominated the top floor whenever I got there. Now, you’ve been tucked away into a corner, and never seem to be entirely there. And quite frankly, the last couple of times I’ve come to that corner, it hasn’t been for you, but for the other one.

Maybe you’re too old for me, too. Maybe I want something younger, less jaded. Someone who still cares, even when my wallet’s empty.

If you didn’t know, I’ve met someone else. One of those American cousins of yours you pretend don’t exist. I’m not saying it will last forever, but for now I’m happy. Gone are the constant demands; your cousin seems happy with whatever they can get.

I’m not saying you and me are done. I’ve invested far too much into what we have for that. But next time I want to have some fun, it might not be your door I come knocking on. Once in a while, I might dust off what we had and take it for a spin, but maybe, just maybe, you’re not my first choice anymore.

I’m sorry we’ve come to this. I truly am. We have had some good times together, and it’s a shame to see it fade away. But I think we need to stop fighting it. We’re not the couple we used to be anymore.

So, I guess this is it.

I’ll see you around.

Let me know if you want to go back to the way things were.

I’ll be here.

Yours no longer,

Incarias