Open Letters to People or Entities Who Are Unlikely to Respond
Send your nonfictional open letters to firstname.lastname@example.org.
An Open Letter to Pumpkin-Flavored Seasonal Treats.
BY ILANA PLEN
[Originally published November 12, 2010.]
Dear Pumpkin-Flavored Seasonal Treats,
So you’re back. You just come waltzing into town like nothing has happened, like nothing has changed. Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who left for a year with no explanation, no warning. No note. And I’m just supposed to be okay with that?
Well, I’m not. A lot has changed in the last year. I’ve moved on. I tried going vegan, did you know that? Of course you didn’t. You know why? Because you never bothered to call and check in. I had a fling with peppermint in December, but that didn’t last long. I never really got over you.
Do you know what it was like for me after you disappeared? I was a wreck. I couldn’t get out of bed; there was nothing to look forward to. I started visiting the places we spent time together, on the off chance you might be there. But no matter where I went, the fact was that you were gone. Worst of all, it seems that I was the only one who noticed. Signs advertising your presence remained up. Commercials encouraging me to consume you in mass quantities flooded my television and haunted my dreams. You were everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time.
If I had realized how temporary your presence in my life would be, I would have done things differently. I would have cherished the time we spent together more. I would have taken more pictures. I would have told you I loved you each and every single day. If only I knew it was all going to end, I would have planned ahead. I would have stocked up. If only.
But like I said, things are different now. I’ve changed. I’m strong now. I’m not the same girl who needed you, yearned for you and cried when you weren’t around. I am an independent, self-sufficient woman, who refuses to be tied down. Especially to something that can’t handle hanging around for more than a three month period of time. So screw you, you commitment phobic piece of crap.
You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here. How dare you look me in the eye? Do you think I’m dumb? Do you think I don’t realize that since you’ve come back, you’ve flirted with every person you pass on the street, tempting them with your elusive charms and intoxicating scent? You jerk. You big jerk. I trusted you. I thought we had something special. And now you’ve gone and thrown it all away. Again. God, I’m stupid. I’m so stupid. I hate you. I really, really do.
Wait. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m being too hard on you. I don’t know. I’ve put so much into this relationship already. Maybe it’s better to just try again. A blank slate, so to speak. It’s still early in the season. We still have time; we can still make it work. What do you say? How about a drink? For old time’s sake? But please, whatever you do. Don’t ever leave me again.
I love you,
Ilana Abby Plen
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