Dear the-you-that’s-not-you,

I want to open with this: I don’t need you. My body and mind might rebel against that statement, but in the end you are not needed. You have stolen from me things I can not ever get back. You’ve blocked me out from relationships. Taken my mind. You’ve put up massive walls between me and God that I’m having difficulty scaling. So, clearly, no, I don’t need you.
But there are times when I want you. There will always be that. But I also get the urge to slap an ignorant person in the face when they speak: however, through maturity and the knowledge that that is a less than stellar idea I will refrain. Sure it might make me feel better, but ultimately, I’m the one that will pay the price. And I have been.
But I’ve decided I no longer owe you. True, I’m not perfect enough to not let you in when you come to visit sometimes, but those times are over. No quick visits, no late night phone calls.
While you have been faithful, you’ve ravaged me in ways I can not explain.
I’m done and I bid you farewell.