Dear Someone...

Dear Someone,

You've been ruining my life ever since I was 6. Sure, it was fun playing around with you, even I can admit that but sometime later dealing with you just became very hard. I've thought a lot about killing you, destroying you but knowing that I don't have the power to, I couldn't. You started possessing my mind and thoughts ever since I realized I was doomed. You're the first thing I think of in the morning. Not because I love you, no, the amount of hate I have towards you is so much bigger that I can't see others when you're in line.

When you're around, I become very weak. My mind goes off to different places all at once just by feeling your presence. I've avoided all those who were related to you for the fear of being reminded of you as with them your odor filled in, your scent that changed the whole atmosphere for me. A lot have urged me to change my attitude; maybe then you'd soften up a bit. Maybe, they said, I'd fall in love with you just like others have.

Know that I've tried, more than you'd ever know but I've been failing repeatedly. You've never captured my heart. I tried to admit you in, keep a place for you, hoping that someday, somewhere you'd finally belong there. Above all, you should know that I did all of this not because I wanted to, on the contrary, because I had to. There was no other way to survive than admitting you're a part of me; an essential one at that.

You confuse me to bits. I can’t think straight without messing up big time. You shatter my self-confidence into a tiny, million pieces. When asked about you, my heart beats a billion times per second that I could feel it bursting out of my chest. Even though I might not know everything about you, I feel like a total idiot when speaking about you. Your problems puzzle me, your words are unfathomable. Reading your expressions is as hard as a dyslexic reading a first grade textbook.

I could go on and on about the things that irritates me about you but I’m afraid the ink would rip this letter and you wouldn’t get to read what I wrote above. It saddens me that we’d never gotten on terms before but I’d like to keep it that way. God only knows how I’d end up if you’re going to spend the rest of my life with me.

One last thing dear Math: I hate you with a passion.

Not yours truly,
Kitten.