Please Edit Your Hate Mail and Break-up Letters

I love a good break up letter. I really do. I love the way it lends itself to "honoring" the time the 2 people had. together. The way it seems to say "I've moved on" even though generally that person is obviously more sad or angry then the pen and paper let on.

Then, my idea changed. My friend sent me this break up letter she was recently "gifted". Now, I have removed the names, because-- well, that is the polite thing to do. Right? I just want to say, seriously.... fuck this guy. No one say anything like this to my BEST FUCKING FRIEND and gets to digitally live to see the next day. I have sat on this, and meditated on how to handle this outburst-- after tweeting you into submission (was it as good for you as it was for me)?--- * side note, if you wanna see the take down, check out my twitter https://twitter.com/AnastasiaElzbth

Here is the email:

After all things considered, Karma will get you. There are no demons for you to blame. It is you. In a conscious mind making conscious decisions to destroy. I don't care, as if I have never
Met you. I threw away all canvases and memory of you. I am moving back east on Tuesday to never return to this shit show, ass backwards greed infected city where those of you have no boundaries of pain and suffering, coddled by your Hollywood parents. Nobody fucking cares about your pain...we all have pain, most have suffered much more than you. You were given the world and you were to naive in your forties to even understand it. You have a soul a sad soul, a soul in which those who attempt to love you eventually are overthrown by your compulsive lies and need to gain acceptance. Your not
Crazy, in fact your not even above average on the intelligence meter. You may be slightly dumb. Numb to reality. All in all fuck off. Go to a miserable place and end it. For you will burn in the end. Karma has it out for you... No luck wished, no fucks given, your a sorry child in a woman's body who will one day return to this planet as a peasant, hopefully to learn the error of humans. No daddy to use as a scapegoat. You carve your destiny and your destiny smells like the same shit your apartment smells like. Cleanup, grow up, wash your house, kill your pride. You are the great American, the selfish, greedy, spoiled, material , bullshit that represents everything I hate about this country. Good luck with your fucked sense of self...

Wilt slow and alone

My edits-comments-concerns are in RED. Here is the email:

After all things considered, Karma will get you (Strong opening sentiment, I also appreciate the capitalization, because Karma is a name-- most likely one of the Dominas you used. Excuse me, I mean Mistress Karma). There are no demons for you to blame (This weakens your previous statement I mean, going from Karma to demons and blame-- going from egalitarian faith to the constraints of conformist religion-- bad move "artist"). It is you. In a conscious mind making conscious decisions to destroy (Repetitive, I mean, most decisions are consciously made-- and some decisions do destroy. Again, if you are aware of the choice made-- one is aware of the consequences. However, you didn't think about this when you were WALKING/BIKING to your local S&M dungeon  Or think that in doing so, you would destroy your own relationship with someone). I don't care, as if I have never met you. (I don't care, as if never-- that is a double negative, sir, and it does imply that you do care. And it is bothering the fuck out of you. I am sure you and Mistress Karma will work this out, no doubt). I threw away all canvases and memory of you (Alright, big boy. No you did not. Did your alter ego post that picture on instagram? Did you steal another canvas-- maybe-- that shit is expensive-- and Domina's are not Sugar Mama's. ALSO, one cannot actually throw out memories-- unless you can based on that new movie where they give you new memories...). I am moving back east on Tuesday (insert victory party) to never return to this shit show, ass backwards greed infected city (Oh, hunny-- did you forget you wandered into Los Angeles?? The city that thrives on creative, driven, money making minds? Are you sad you "zine" sucks-- and is a SAD substitute for soft core porn? Or is it that you realized your work was nothing here...) where those of you have no boundaries of pain and suffering (No use crying over RT'd tweets-- ALSO you are one to fucking talk about "boundaries, pain and suffering"-- you paid to have all of that. Pain and Suffering is what you are into-- I thought I was giving you what you wanted, free of charge, long-distance), coddled by your Hollywood parents (careful who you talk about-- the walls and cities have eyes and ears) . Nobody fucking cares about your pain (that we do not PAY to have inflicted on us)...we all have pain, most have suffered much more than you . You were given the world and you were to (too) naive in your forties to even understand it (Not sharing intimate pain with you does not imply naivete, it implies a lack of trust-- and rightfully so). You have a soul a sad soul, a soul in which those who attempt to love you eventually are overthrown by your compulsive lies and need to gain acceptance (I am her best fucking friend you fucking asshole. I love her beyond your fucking scope of understanding you self-indulgent pseudo-intellectual malcontent fucking "artist"). Your (You're) not Crazy (you're too stupid for this to be intentional), in fact your not even above average on the intelligence meter (this is a self-important way to call someone stupid... gawd you are long winded). You may be slightly dumb. Numb to reality. All in all fuck off (All in all, fuck off-- take your own advice, seriously dude, I am bored to death reading this swill... this is the closest you will get to being published and I regret posting this twice). Go to a miserable place and end it (End what? You have poor sentence structure. Is this a 'World War Z' reference?). For you will burn in the end (Seriously?? Oh. My. Gawd. CONFORMIST). Karma has it out for you... No luck wished, no fucks given, your a sorry child in a woman's body who will one day return to this planet as a peasant (Please, pick a religious theme and stick with it, I mean it. I cannot take the Karma, Reincarnation, Fire and Brimstone mix), hopefully to learn the error of humans (You are implying she is, not human? Above human? Above you! Over you!). No daddy to use as a scapegoat (Be careful sir, no one likes name calling). You carve your destiny and your destiny smells like the same shit your apartment smells like. Cleanup, grow up, wash your house, kill your pride . You are the great American, the selfish, greedy, spoiled, material , bullshit that represents everything I hate about this country (move to fucking Canada then. Seriously, you are already in Social Siberia). Good luck with your fucked sense of self (Thank gawd, this is the end of the GD email. You are the one with the fucked sense of self-- paying for BDSM, stealing art supplies, stealing ideas-- all the while believing you are in the "right". You are the one who didn't play by the rules, and you are the one paying the price. BDSM-- not the norm, BTW. It must suck to be such an outsider, who landed himself there on his own terms-- yet wants others to work out his pain for him, indulge is "creative" side-- while he Starves, is Celibate and has no Dreams)...

People know better than to cross me-- and you sir, did it. While I would love to read your replies, and hear your insight... I don't give a fuck. As an actual artist, I welcome your reaction. In fact, I want one. So I can frame it, and point to it.

Things I Wont Do

I went on a "date"...

Correction, I was promised a date and was conned into watching the first hour (minute? half hour?) of Inception, then was invited to give that guy a... BJ.

Seriously?!

You think some movie, like that, is going to get me in the mood to do YOU that kind of favor?

Where do guys get off thinking these things.

Obviously, I am not seeing this guy again.

So male readers, take note: Buy a girl a drink (a meal? dessert? something!) before asking for such insane favors, in bizarre settings.

It blows my mind.

pun intended.

Bitter. I Am Fucking Bitter.

OK. Once again, I total neglect my following.

I apologize.

But this time... THIS time, it is because I was coming to terms with my feelings before committing them to html.

And what feelings is that?

BITTER.

This overwhelming pissed-off-ness about shit so far beyond my control. And not only that, that sneaking suspension that I haven't learned a gawddammed thing from past relationships.

I was involved with a guy... in a limited capacity, from June till October. It is only 4 months. But that 4 months was filled with a daily barrage of texts, picture messages and peppered with calls. Then, it just stopped.

Normally, I'd let it go. Just write it off as someone missing out on my awesomeness.

BUT no. NOT THIS TIME.

Over the course of 4 months, I developed feelings for this person... a growing infatuation. It was made clear to me, by him, that his feelings were similar.

And then... October hit, and all his communication halted.

I figured it was because we both have been insanely busy with our jobs, I also figured it could have been something like else.

As it turns out, part of it was work, another was a family affair, the over-whelming part: "It is hard to let myself get close to someone who is 7 hours away"

I just want to say:

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! You knew this when we met.

You knew this the entire time you were talking to me?

Why are you surprised? Why are you backing out?!!

YOU’VE GOTTA BE FUCKING JOKING.

Now that I have that out of my system.

I have been holding that in for weeks.

I can’t bring myself to talk to him again. I can stare at my phone all I want and try to will it to show a message… but it wont work. So, I don’t bother trying to talk to him.

I mean, his kiss-off… honestly, made me feel like shit. And that like I am too “inconvenient” (my word, not his).

What really gets me, is… what level of damage prompts a guy to say that shit? I mean, I appreciate the honesty…. It doesn’t mean I like it.

This also, puts into perspective what level of bullshit that dude has been put through.

Part of me thought this was an ideal situation, we have the same job (he’s been doing it longer—and is better at it), we work for the same company (not at my branch, I’m not that kind of girl). I really thought that since we had that in common (and how we met) that this would be pretty ideal. I mean, who else will understand the insane hours and stresses that come with retail at the holidays???

But. I was wrong.

Those factors don’t matter. Nor does the fact that we had a budding relationship.

Which brings me to the point, of how I am bitter:

I am fucking over going through the ringer because of boys bullshit. Don’t get me wrong.

I get it.

Bitch broke your heart. Bitch took 4 years of your life and walked the fuck out on you.

DO NOT make me suffer for her bullshit.

I get it. Really.

We all have our baggage. We all have our issues. I know I have dated guys who are real pieces of work, who have without a doubt left their own mark on me.

Do I take those issues out on a good guy? Never intentionally. But occasionally I have when a red flag goes up. So, I am not faultless.

I just…. I thought things were different this time… and I was wrong. And that sucks.

Sucks for him, because I am FUCKING awesome.

Infatuation Situation

I always find my self getting infatuated with the most inappropriate boys.

I keep finding these candidates and throwing my hat in the ring for them... only to find they have other interests, or one way tickets to other countries.

How many times can this actually happen to a girl?

I mean, maybe... I don't know. I feel very.... Jane Austen.

I mean she nailed it with the line:

"I'm 27 years old. I've no money and no prospects.

I'm already a burden to my parents."

I mean, that is me... currently.

I am 27. I have little-- or no money (depending on the month). And yes, no prospects.

Well... None that I am aware of (or want, stalkers do not count).

So what is a girl to do?

Well.. This girl is going to do what she has been doing, which is focus on work.

I mean, I have put more focus on my job in the last 8 months than I have, possibly, ever. And in doing so I have found more success than ever. Which, how does one not enjoy success at work?

But, you know what... I want someone to celebrate my successes with me.

I want someone to get stoked that I bonus'd last quarter. I want someone to get jazzed that I am in charge of one of the premier North Texas TOMS events.

But not only that... I want someone to collapse into when the days or rough. I want someone to take my mind off work on my days off.

I can line out wants and needs all day long. I can make it cut and dry.... But in the end of it, it is just my one sided view of it.

It is a vision that is still missing the other person.

I guess, in a way I deserve it, I go around attaching meaning to kisses and conversations. Some, that it turns out mean the same thing (or anything) to the other party.

Just, a moment.

We walked in, close behind one another.

We were headed in the same direction. Walking with the same purpose.

The doors open, we all pass through.

Head right for the bar.

Deep in the crowd, pushing forward.

Edging others out for drinks.

Our fingers lace through each other's.

Small circles traced on the back's of hands.

Tightly knit, hands release and graduate to the small's of our backs.

Pull each other close.

Not for warmth. Not for comfort.

Just so. Just because.

Bold moves for shy ones such as us.

We think we know what we're up to.

Eyes catch. Smiles flash.

The lights flash. The crowd ebbs and swells.

Eyes ahead.

A friendly squeeze. A knowing glance.

Eyes lock.

A slow lean in.

The choreographed tilt of heads necks.

A breath, a pause, a A breath.

A kiss.

The crowds stops swirling.

The need for drinks subsides.

And all there is....

is a kiss.

Stolen Moments

So my wish came true... I got to sit by the guy I like.

Funny how passengers on the plane shifted themselves for us, so we could sit together. Maybe it was the way we kept eyeing each other and texting (pre-take off) or maybe it was the fact no one wanted to sit by either of us (him with the beard and me with the tattoos). Either way... I got what I wanted and have the BEST 4 hour flight I have ever had.

What made it sooooo amazing (besides his very presence next to me).... the stolen moments that no one saw.

Once we were buckled in, next to each other, we settled in. Fighting for the arm rest, mostly, I am sure just so we could touch. Our knees touching underneath our jeans (probably just because of the sheer lack of space). Our heads bent towards one another, deep in conversation-- probably driving all the other passengers nuts with our constant chatter. I didn't care, I wanted to hear what he had to say. And, he was genuinely interested in what I had to say (when does that ever happen?).

We shared his ipod, and his headphones... heads tilted in, eyes down on the ipod screen. Bonding over shared love for certain bands and agreeing to disagree on others. Every once and a while, I'd look up and him, and he would look down at me. Our eyes meet and then we'd both smile and go back to looking at the screen.

It was comfortable. In such a good way. The way, that I like to think, many couples strive for-- not the he and I are a couple. Let me make that clear. That conversation has not been had-- and I don't want to have it yet. I just want to enjoy all these little moments I had with him.

That way I can run it on loop, set to music, like a movie montage.

During the event this past weekend, we had a few more moments....

Finding each other between classes (yes, class-- it was a corporate event and we were forced to learn). Talking together, bodies turned in and heads close together (clearly focused and interested in one another). Sitting together at meals (yes-- again, corporate event). Sitting together on the bus (how else do you transport that many people), our hands finding each other.

I am sure you want to vomit now... with this talk of Junior High sweethearts.

But, it's true. All of it. I am not even embellishing. And I am a writer, I am entitled and expected to do so.

All I know now, is that I want more....

A lot more.

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and stones can break some bones....

But in other cases, they can build civilizations.

I am at the airport, once again, jetting off to the west coast. This time is for work, not so much play. I'm sitting here, clicking away, getting ready the peace and quite of the plane. OH and the forced separation from the connected world (I refuse to pay for internet in-flight, ever again-- that's why I carry a stash of books and mags with me).

But I sit here mulling over hurtful words said to me a few days ago.

I should let them go, I mean, it was just a text message from an angry ex. But in all honesty, it pissed me off.

It has taken YEARS for me to learn to step up and stand up to the men in my life. And when I do, I get so verbally smacked it makes me question why do it in the first place.

Well... I do know why I do it. Because I know I deserve better... Ok, not 'deserve' but... Need. Yes, I need better than what they have given.

I do it because I am tired of being walked on. You can claim me to be a lot of things in a relationship, but un-supportive, un-forgiving and evil are not any of them.

That's why a stupid text pissed me off.

I am sure that makes me quite childish.

I mean, a) a text and b) from someone so far away.

I really should let it go.

So again, here I am in the airport.

People watching and blogging due to total lack of other amusements.

All the while my thoughts leaning towards the man I have been talking to.

I keep wondering if he is on my flight, which, I actually know he is. Then I wonder if we will sit together. Because, I really want to. Only, let's face facts, some airlines assign seats (I am using that airline). However, fate/kismet/cosmic alignment have brought us together on the same flight... soooo..... I am going to put faith in the stars and say we will be sitting in close proximity to one another.

But back to the message of sticks and stones.

I will forever be amazed by another's ability to build you up and tear you down. I mean, it has been said that there is a fine line between love and hate and both require a passion.

I guess my testament is that it is much much more terrifying to be involved in those fires than it is to just read about them.

And I will firmly believe that indifference is cruelest thing one can do to another (after an emotional affair). I mean, to remain in love with someone is one thing. To hate someone is another. But to find that place of cold-seemingly-heartless indifference is brutal. That implies that you have erased someone from your life and that all you have left is a selective memory, name, and maybe a trinket or two.

But then, in doing the latter of the 3... you have created what appears to be clear foundation to begin anew.

And who doesn't want a fresh start? Who wants to continue living on and battling the ghosts of ex's past?

ME.

The entire time I have been single I have battled my own ghosts. And I am done. I have had it. I am ready for something new.

Something fresh I can build or help build from the ground up.