Dear Sam,
I know and hope you don't read me anymore and I think I know why. You think you know me completely. You think I have no secrets, no secret puzzles you can try to solve as a game. Drama queen was something else. She was an absolute enigma that attracted many silent readers just cause she was mysterious. She had no face and so many faces at the same time. You say you didn't find the dark bitchy side of me attractive but I know for a fact that has led on many guys to wanna be with me, even the ones that thought I needed a savior to let go of my pessimism and depression. My darkness did make me different while my ordinary looks didn't, and that's enough motivation, don't you think?
Now your poor wife holds no mystery, not anymore. You've conquered her heart and soul. She has no special friends. She doesn't talk to anyone except you. She doesn't go anywhere without you. You have access to all there is, right? That was the idea. I confess I liked it. That's why I stopped blogging. I still believe the secret to good writing is either abundant joy and zeal for life (something only a few exceptions have been lucky to have, like the poster children of the american dream), or an unexpressable mount of heartache. I didn't wanna have heartache anymore, so I erased the whole equation. I didn't wanna stop sharing everything with you.
I'm not sure I'm gonna stay here. I will change places.I don't think I mind wandering now. Especially now that I know yucky Dave checks my old blog every now and then, I know I can't return there without consequences. But I will write. Writing helps me be myself without having to put up with some collateral damage.
