Dear Adele (A letter from the recipient of her song ‘Hello’)

Dear Adele,


I received your message today, just the same as yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.  I feel that this has gone on long enough.  I know that your aim is to wear me down so that I can’t ignore you – and it’s working, to a degree.

As such, I thought that I would write you a letter in response, so that I could better collect my thoughts (and not have to talk to you in person, since you twist my words around so that they say what you want them to say, and you only hear what you want to hear).  All you do is talk about yourself, you never listened to me or anything that I said or felt.  I felt invalidated over and over again; for years I felt like I should not feel my feelings, but now I do, though I hardly expect you to understand.

After all these years, I do not want to go over everything; I am finally moving on, and sometimes I pass a few hours, or, if I’m lucky, maybe a day, without a jab from the pain of what you did to me poking me in the side, startling me out of a sweet moment or a tranquil thought.  Your lies and betrayal left me torn and shattered, unable to breath and too weak to get up off the floor for months; when I looked in the mirror I didn’t even know who I was if I was not a part of you, and suddenly, you were gone.

Though it appears that it doesn’t tear me apart anymore, really it’s a front so that you will just leave me the hell alone.  I don’t want your apologies, apologizing a thousand times after the fact changes nothing and doesn’t make me think more fondly of you, on the contrary, it demonstrates how you are utterly unable to act maturely.  It demonstrates your selfishness, which was the problem all along – the only thing you care about is yourself and what you have and what you can’t have.  The phrase “the grass is greener on the other side of the fence” fits you perfectly; you can’t have me, and only now you want me.  But you don’t want me because of me, you want me because of you, which is the same as it ever was.

Calling and apologizing after you leave me face down on the floor, shattered like that same mirror that I used to see us together in, doesn’t mean that you have tried, or that you should even think that you can thus say that you tried to apologize for breaking my heart, it merely means that you played your game until I hit the stop button because I was too broken and bruised to take any more.  I means that you can’t stand losing, and nothing more.

Ultimately, I could never even consider getting back together with you; you broke my heart, you tore apart my life.  I am finally putting myself back together.  Whatever time you think we are running out of is purely inside of your own head, because my clock does not tick in unison with yours anymore, and never will again.

In parting, I suggest that you try to make yourself comfortable on “the outside,” as you say, because I will answer no more of your calls and I will send you no other letters.  I will be changing my phone number and email address actually, so please, do yourself a favor and move on.  Maybe California isn’t a good place for you, try hell.


The broken one

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