Dear Ex

I want you to know I don’t hate you.  I’m not angry, or sad, or even disappointed anymore.  I understand your choices, and I appreciate that you made them when you did- because I was too in love to see the truth of the situation.

We would have never been happier than those months before.  There was no more up.  You wanted to be young, free, play the games you hadn’t yet- and I already had.  You will forever want to be an explorer- a reverse Columbus, adventuring East.  But I’ve seen the world, and while it’s fun to travel and trek, the place I truely want to be is home.  I can build a home anywhere- you taught me that- as long as the person next to me wants to be there too.

I owe you thanks for that, and so many other things.  Thanks for four years of a well spent youth.  Happiness, adventures, life lessons, friends.  An unabashedly enthusiastic family, a place to fly my geek flag, the chance to fail.  Thank you for the stories, and the love and the opportunity to learn just what I needed for me.

I’m sorry that we haven’t been better friends the last few years- but I’m glad I still get to call you a friend.  Call next time you’re in town.  We’ll shoot the breeze.

And maybe some tequila.

XOXO Sarah Mae


I’ve committed to writing 30 letters in 30 days, according to the 30 Day Letter Challenge.  To learn more about my project, check out my introduction.

Dear Dumba**

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I wanted to love you, more than anything.  I wanted to be the teachers wife, a shining example of community involvement and loving support.  I wanted to be the girl in our 1950’s daydreams of what a future could look like.

But my gut wouldn’t let me.

I should thank you for that.  For the lesson that going further than you want to, making choices for another person, ignoring the calling in your heart only hurts you.  It’s an important lesson to learn, and I am thankful that I did- because it changed everything.

You made dumba** choices.  Not just with the teenager that landed you in jail (that would have been and should have been prison, if they hadn’t lessened the charges), but with me too.  You squandered my spirit in the guise of love, played the hero while picking me apart, and became the closest thing to an abuser I’ve ever had.

No, you did not hit me.
No, you did not rape me.
No, you did not scream, yell, or throw things.

But it wasn’t what is was supposed to be.  And I knew that.  So I walked away.

You gave me something else too- sympathy and empathy for the women and men who can’t walk away, for those who can’t escape, for those who die before they hit a breaking point.  I had the spark in me, that you never got to see- it kept me warm, and safe, and pushed me out before the police arrived at your classroom door.  Not everyone has that- not everyone has BookBoy and BigBrother to highlight the difference in love and support and disenchantment, or a voice to say no.

You will accuse me of being a hateful bi*ch, of having the situation wrong, of victim blaming you.  That’s okay with me.  You can call me a mess, unkempt, a girl who wouldn’t get contacts for you.  I’m okay with that too.

You see, I’ve managed to find love after you.  In glasses.  And pants.  And saying “no” when I’m not into something.  All without a grown man pitching a hissy fit.

So thank you.

Never yours- Sarah Mae


I’ve committed to writing 30 letters in 30 days, according to the 30 Day Letter Challenge.  To learn more about my project, check out my introduction.