Just a few days after Christmas and even fewer days after the New Year, I received a lovely little belated gift in the mail. Someone had already gotten the mail that day and left a letter sent to me lying on our dining room table, the address written in sloppy loops as if a third grader had decided to send me a holiday greeting. The envelope had no return address, and referred to me by my full name.
Curious enough, I ripped my little gift open, but perhaps I should have torn down the middle instead. The letter began:
“I know this may seem super mysterious and strange, but I have recently found out some information that I think you should be aware of. Before I tell you, I want you to know that I am a reliable source and I am 100% positive that this information is true. I would tell you who I am but I don’t want this to ruin my relationship with any of the parties involved. Once again, I am absolutely positive that what I’m about to tell you is true.”
Let me tell you that the eighty-seven words of that paragraph, linked together in that very particular order, are not words that will make your day any brighter. No, these sentences will draw a looming storm cloud above your head and charge it to strike at any moment.
“This past year (2015), in the months leading to graduation, your boyfriend ***** ******* had sex with another girl.”
What?
“This was not meant to ruin your relationship by any means, but I would feel guilty never telling you. I wish you the very best!”
What? Who sent this? Did he really cheat on me? Why would someone send me this? Did he seriously cheat on me?! Who the hell sent this?! Who sent this goddamn letter?!
In an instant, I was totally paralyzed with anger: full to the brim with the burning desire to punch somebody squarely in the throat, but unsure of exactly who to hit. Just who was I so furious with? The boyfriend for allegedly cheating? The nameless girl he allegedly cheated with? Myself for being so trusting, so loving, so downright stupid? Or was I simply angry at the letter itself for having been written, stamped, and sent to me without providing any release for the thunderstorm of rage it would inevitably cause?
No. I am not that dumb, and I am not that forgiving. Somebody – I’ll probably never know who – took the time out of their day to cast an ugly shadow of doubt into my mind. Somebody – I’ll probably never know who – wanted to disturb a perfectly nice thing. Somebody – I’ll probably never know who – just wanted to be a jerk.
And now that I’ve calmed down just a little bit, now that I’ve sent all the angry and accusatory texts, now that I’ve gotten past plotting a stranger’s murder, I’m ready for a little bit of closure. I’d hate to leave this little letter without a nice response.
Dear Anonymous,
I won’t introduce myself; it seems you’re already aware of who I am, as well as of a large portion of my personal life. I’m not sure who cued you in about the details surrounding my relationship, but please extend to them my sincerest appreciation. I had actually been planning to put my private business on full display to strangers like you for a while now, but you seem to have taken the heavy lifting out of that job for me. Thanks, pal.
I’m writing today to let you know that I received your letter, and that I appreciate your concern. Just like you, I, too, care very deeply about things that are absolutely none of my business. In fact, I spend multiple hours per week in the gym watching bad reality television and genuinely hoping, wishing, and feeling things for the characters, despite the fact that their lives bear no effect upon mine. Let me just say that the interest you’ve taken in me and my relationship has truly made me feel like the Kardashian I never was.
Actually, you’ve made me feel a lot of new, unfamiliar emotions. For example, never before had I known what it felt like to want to set a human being on fire. But, thanks to you, now I do. You made me think that the person I love might have hurt me in the deepest way possible. You cast a shadow of doubt into my mind that, even weeks later, I can’t help but think about. You made me hate my mailman. None of these things could have happened without you. And for this I extend my sincerest congratulations.
However, I feel there are some things that I should clear up. After all, this is my life and my relationship we’re talking about. So shouldn’t I be the one to get the final word?
I don’t believe that I was ever cheated on. I have enough faith in the people I love and care about to trust that they wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. You say that you’re a “reliable source,” but I’m slow to place faith in those who don’t even have enough courage to admit their identity. I place faith in the people I love. I place faith in those who care about me. I place nothing in you.
You are not a hero. You are not the ‘good guy.’ You are nothing to me. You are a coward. You are malicious. You should be ashamed of yourself for stooping so low as to attempt to destroy happiness that doesn’t even belong to you. You are a sad individual who takes time out of their day to sit down at a computer and type with the intention of hurting another person. You are a bully.
You are ‘the worst.’
I love my boyfriend. I love my girlfriends who were ready to seek and destroy anyone who made their friend sad. I love my mom for agreeing that you wholeheartedly suck. I love myself for never hurting anyone the way you tried to hurt me. But I feel nothing but pity for you. And maybe a little bit of anger. Because, let’s face it, I don’t like you one bit.
Thanks again for your concern over my relationship, but please try to remember that my relationship is my concern. And the next time you feel like getting involved in somebody else’s business, do us all a favor:
Go for it. Write that letter. And as soon as it’s finished, fold it into a pretty little airplane and hurl it directly into the sun.
Love,
Lauren
(See? This is how you sign a letter. You seem to have had difficulty last time.)
Photo Credit: 1