Dear R.P.H. (Letter #8)

I’m transcribing a series of handwritten letters I wrote, but never sent. Read the previous letters here.

Dear R-

I just did what I told myself I wouldn’t. I sent you a message. A contrived, fake message. I’m an idiot. I’m sitting here on pins and needles, waiting to see if you’ll respond – how you’ll respond.

I gave up all my hope again today. I needed a ledge to hold on to. I used you. I said out loud in the car, “R- I’m falling. I’m falling again.” I want you to stop me. Please stop me. Please. You’ll ignore me again – or reply in a pithy one word response – and then it’ll be better because I’ll know we’re done for good. You’ll have gone back on your word  – to be better to me. And that’ll be that. And I’ll just go on. I must have written and re-written my little two phrase message.

All useless. I’m holding onto jello for a human connection I can love. God, how dramatic.