Dear X:

dear x,

thank you for helping me realize my life is worth shit
what was supposed to be a fun night turned into a slam fest of how i suck as a human
you're life is so bad?
you're not the blame for everything wrong in your life or the kids.
ask me again, why do I hide my pain, physical and emotional and wonder why i should stlll be alive????
you didn't lose the love of your life
you don't have your kids hating you
you arent' the one to blame for your family hating you
its all me
its always me
its going to take you finding me dead to realize that life is not all about you
its going to take you realize, this is who I am, but you never will

I can never love anyone but her and that's gone
so what do I have now??

shit.

so go cry.
piss ass.

i'm tired of being lied to , that i'm someone special
she's married now, you think we're married now
and I have just the lies.

let's hope you're all happy soon.
 
Dear,

If you only knew what I knew you'd shut up and you'd cry for a freaking year for what you did. I remind myself you don't know so in times of anger I'm not allowed to hurt you.

:mad:
 
Dear Mom,
I'm sorry you're relationship with Dad is a little boring and you live in a town of 400 people where there is no one to talk to and nothing to do. But please, I am the 22 year old in this family. The twins are 21. We should be out drinking our asses off in the evenings and calling Daddy to come pick us up at 2am. Not you. Now I know this whole 'empty nest' thing is difficult, and I know it's been tough since Daddy ran for office, but seriously, grow up.
Also, in reference to that dratted cigarettes that you huff down your throat every ten minutes and yet claim you don't smoke that often, you have until I am pregnant with your first grandchild to give up smoking or so help me God I will make sure you never see that child.
Thank you.
CG (AKA JeffLeigh)
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Dear Sis,

If you would please call all of the relatives and tell them that it is you, the younger sister, who is getting married and not me, I would be very appreciative. I am getting sick of recieving congratulations calls and having to tell everyone that my boyfriend of three and a half years didn't propose, yours did. Oh, and no, they don't know him, cause you've only been dating for six months. No, I don't know him either. Because even though I'm apparently good enough to have no say in my position as Maid of Honor, I'm not good enough to meet my future brother in law.
And oh, by the way, Mom told Uncle Chris that your fiance is a metrosexual. Chris doesn't know what the fuck that is.
Love,
Your adoring and patient older sister, the one everybody is telling, "Oh...we always thought you'd get married first...".
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Dear J,
I know three and a half years isn't enough time to know if you love someone or not - Oh wait...I don't, because I love you - but could you please start thinking about whether or not I am The One? I mean, I know we've still got a couple of years until we're both on our feet, but since I've given up my last shred of dignity by giving you, a man who doesn't love me, my virginity, I'd like to think that you could look inside of yourself to start to answer those 'difficult' questions.
Oh. And I really am not joking about the handcuffs. I want to be tied up and I want to tie you up. Hell, I'll sign a waver saying I won't touch, lick, or blow on your nipples, just please, let's get a little kink on.
Because I love you,
CG (aka JeffLeigh)
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Dear Ben and Jerry's,

I love my Chubby Hubby Icecream. Those chocolate-covered, peanut-butter filled pretzels are the perfect, salty balance to the sweet malt icecream and peanut butter/fudge swirls. I really don't know how you did it, successfully making an icecream that has officially beat out Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough as my new comfort food.
Now, if you could possibly find a way to keep all the sugar and calories in the ice cream while making it so I don't have to jog three miles the day after I consume a whole pint...that would be splendid!
Sincerely,
Me!
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Dear Psychologist,

You must be good at what you do because I came to you for PTSD and after three sessions wound up in couple's counseling. However, I do not intent to ever call you "Karl" and I really have no desire to hear about how that one special scent that your wife wears makes you pop a boner. Also, I know my bright red nails are pretty, and my flip-flops were different from my normal tennies, but you don't have to comment.
And please, refrain from calling me a babe. It's kind of awkward and makes it difficult to open up to you.
Thanks.
The Girl with Panic Attacks
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Hey...I feel a lot better now. I should let it all out more often!
 
Dear X:

you can fucking bite the fatest part of my ass. you lecture me again and I WILL rip everyone of your disgustingly long nails out, slowly, and cram them so far up your nose they poke the old ass pentium 4 processor you call a brain. GO PLAY IN TRAFFIC!

Pixie
 
Dear x,

That's an interesting division of labor. Piss-boy makes threats and Shit-man tries to carry them out.

j
 
Dear x,

I jumped a hurdle this weekend. Not sure what to think about it but think it was rather necessary to bring me to where I need to be. I think I'm going to miss you a little less now.

Now ready to breath.
 
Dear restaurant cashier,

What part of my order, "2/3 pound burger, no side, no drink," made you think that I wanted fries, a soda, or any kind of topping at all? I was very clear with my words, and made it very evident that was all that I wanted. And yet you persisted, again. This isn't the first time you have taken my order, and you obviously don't know how to learn, because you keep acting exactly the same every goddamn time. This isn't McDonalds where you make more money the more crap you push on me, so knock it off!
 
Dear Favorite Big Brother Ever:

You are my hero of the day, I'm glad I didn't leave the Teddy Bear you gave me at mom's house. Thanks for calling. You always know what to say. I love you bunches. Come home from Japan soon so I can spoil my nepew!!!!!!

~ Pixie
 
Dear X,

I'm just one more entry in the long, long parade of people who got tired of your shit.

j
 
Dear Insomnia:

Please go away. My body is getting tired and I'm pretty sure my brain is tired too.

~Pixie
 
Dear x,
I'm falling for you and you make it so easy to happen, unintentionally, gracefully. :eek:
silly Me
 
dear x:

Dear X:

Fuck you. Fuck you very hard. No seriously, I'd still fuck you :(

Why did you have to go and be a dick? break up a friendship over some self centered bullshit you won't even be honest about? Refusing to read my response? Fuck you. Refusing all communication? Fuck you.

We had a good thing, we did good, but then... but then... Why did you have to take away what few friends I had, with you?

Oh yeah, HE won't forgive you. I might, if you'd read and respond, but HE never will. You made me cry, you were cruel and heartless, and HE will never forgive you for it.

So you wasted 4 years of my life, and a year of his.

From both of us, fuck you.
 
Dear German Lit Community

You suck ! Except MagnoliaS, past_perfect, kojote, polarbear and all those silent people supporting me.

OK, it's my fault, a little bit. I had to know that objectivity is a nearly impossible thing in the writing business. Writing is a personal thing, so writers are subjective to the max.

Forgive me for having hope.
 
Dear X,
I was actually getting bored with this thread until the Rover Boys showed up.
BTW, how many hours last week did you spend on your throne being Queen of the Bar Bitches?
20 hours? 30 hours? More than 40 hours?
j
 
Dear X;

Yes I like Irish Cream in my Coffee. NO I am not an alcoholic, I only do it on Sunday

~Pixie
 
Dear neighbor,

please go back to fucking your cousin and stop bothering me with your racist views and rude remarks.

//SF
 
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