To Ken

I’ve avoided this for awhile.  Too long, it seems.  Will I send it?  I don’t know.  Would he care?  I’ll never know.  I do not want to hear from him.  I simply want him to know what he did to me.  I want him to understand the effect he had on my life and my self-esteem. 

Dear Ken,

You lousy rat bastard.  I can’t think of anything to say that would really reflect the way I feel about you.  I am so angry.  I am so angry at you.  Your complete disregard for my feelings is unparalleled in my life.  Your cruelty is etched upon my heart.  I am damaged goods now.  You are public enemy number one.  You are the archdemon.  I have a picture of your patronizing, condescending, hypocritical, elitist, pseudointellectual, pseudohumanbeing face burned on my brain, adorned with Beelzebub’s horns, Lucifer’s lightning eyes, the forked tail of the Beast swaying behind your whore of Babylon’s body. 

Dude, you fucked me over, and I.  Am.  Pissed.  Off.

A small voice inside of me says, “He didn’t know how you felt about him.  He didn’t know you cared so much.  He thought you were just like any other person in his life, convenienent but unnecessary.”  And then I smash that voice with Thor’s Hammer, and I rain down all the might of God’s Awful Power upon it, saying, “LIES!  FALSEHOOD!  UNTRUTH!  I REBUKE YOU”

You did know.  How could you not?  I told you in every way I could.  I didn’t even know I was doing it most of the time.  Gifts, e-mails, kindnesses – but none of these mattered as much as the biggest thing I could and did give you, vulnerability.  Openness.  I lay there with all my neuroses and paranoia and beliefs and hopes and dreams and naivete and arrogance and impudence and longing exposed like a spread vagina.  I couldn’t have been any more defenseless if I had walked out my skin and sat around in my bones.  I gave you my intimate self.

And you used it.  You took everything I gave you and learned from it.  Used me to understand parts of human nature that you didn’t yet understand.  You, not being human yourself, were on a ceaseless quest to try to understand the humans around you which, I suppose in retrospect, was so that you could better manipulate them to your purposes.  You even told me your little verbage for it: “forcing your will.” 

Well guess what.  I’m done.  I’m done with letting the legacy of your enormity dominate my life.  I’m done with pretending you didn’t matter that much.  I’m done with blocking my feelings about you and letting that block obscure my vision of what went down between us.  Your rejection was of the most insidious sort; you rejected me because I was no longer useful to you.  You cut me loose because you had nothing left to gain from making my acquaintance.  Or so you thought.  Here’s one last lesson for you, Ken.  Do not do this again.  Do not suck the very soul from another innocent as you did with me.  I barely got it back, and I will not allow it to happen to anyone else.  I don’t have to know where you are, and I don’t have to know who it is.  But I will know when it happens.  I can see across time and space, and I will know.  I will unleash all the powers of universe against your dark infection and I will vanquish you.  I will sound the clarion call and the stars and planets will come to my aid.  There will be nothing left but barren destruction.  You are no phoenix.  You will not rise.  Unlike the god you rejected, there will be no Easter for you.  I will smite you from the earth and your memory will evaporate.

I know what you did, and I’m going to tell.

Mike