Dear Thoughts,

I am thankful for your manageable volume these days.
We were never friends, I know that. I came to terms with that fact years ago. Ever since, we pretty much had an ‘on-again, off-again relationship’.
For short periods of time, we were on the same page. We learned to be around each other; we got along.
But there were also phases in my life when I did not give you permission to grow so deafeningly loud — but you did not seem to care at all. You kept screaming at me, even in the middle of the night — and there was nothing on earth I could do to silence you. I kept trying to give you a voice, but you drowned and suffocated every word before it even had a chance to form.

Now, I am way better at keeping you reined in when it is needed. Unfortunately, I had to learn that the hard way.

In an effort to keep us both functional, happy, and well-rested (it benefits us both if you let me sleep), I will continue to try and find outlets in varying forms, so the raw force you possess (and I know you do) will not have the necessity to tackle me when I am completely off guard.

I really hope we can be friends one day.
You would be a powerful ally.

All the Best,
The (Over-)Thinker

Dear Cigarette (Part III),

this month, it has been six years since we parted ways.
I know the decision was pretty one-sided, but I never regretted (forcefully) slamming the door in your face. Back then, you did everything you could to make me come back to you; to – at least – reconsider leaving so abruptly, but fortunately, your arguments were never quite strong enough.
I do not miss you.
There were times when I missed you dearly, but those days have long been erased from my memory.
It is better this way. I do not say that I never enjoyed your company – there were days when you were the only one there to comfort me. You know how it is though – we grow and move on. I am certain you found someone new.
I hope we will never see each other again.
I do not need you anymore.

Sincerely,
The One Who Stayed Away

Dear Weekend,

once upon a time, we were friends.
I don’t even recall when this changed, but when I think back, it seems, you’ve been such a traitorous bitch for the past couple of months. It is probably my fault, so I should apologize for calling you names, but damn… I am mad at you.
I long for you, week after week. Welcome you with open arms when you arrive, always hoping we can go back to the way we were. But every single time it bites me in the ass. When there is nothing left to clean, nothing left to rearrange, vacuum, restock, scrub or build, you leave me alone. Utterly alone. Once, we used to enjoy our time together. Now, when there’s nothing left to do, you leave me all alone with my thoughts – and wow, this is still such a painful experience. I never thought I would say this, but when you’re here, and I have “endured” your presence for more than a day, I long for Monday to come and sweep me away. Keep me busy… keep me away from painful memories, that haunt me (for the time being).

I didn’t mean to call you names. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I am just so disappointed that you and I don’t work out anymore – when I just know how much I really need you.
I hope this period of time will be a short one… and that we will learn to spend time with each other again.
I miss you. Very much.

Faithfully,
The Involuntary Thinker

Dear Idiot,

you used to be fun, you know.
I guess times have changed.

Not only did you develop enormous attitude problems towards your fellow employees, but it appears, you lately lack a certain amount of respect for them, too. It’s like your brain keeps farting 24/7 and your moods constantly seem to have a “bad hair day”… every single day.
I would like to remind you that no one but you is responsible for the unhappiness and incompleteness you feel. Yeah, you’re going through stuff. Deal with it. We all do. And please do us the favor to not project your incompetence to cope unto us.
Today, you made a big mistake.
You tried to use me, snapped at me in a really unprofessional and childish way to blow off some steam. To put it frankly, that shit’s not gonna fly. And I guess I made that clear.
I hope you will eventually rescue yourself from your own ignorance and crack open those martyrdom-crusted eyes of yours.
You used to be fun.
Perhaps there is still a slim chance you will be able to go back to the roots.

Sincerely,
The One You Don’t Want To Mess With Right Now

Dear Sores,

for the millionth time in the past couple of weeks, I wish I could stop scratching. The scabs are yet tender, and I can’t seem to leave them alone. What lies beneath their fragility is much more vivid than what I have to face now… and I can’t really bring myself to accept the fact that soon, they will dry and eventually scar.
There is not a damn thing I can do about it.
A part of me appreciates the faint stabs of pain you cause. Even when my eyes roam elsewhere, I know you are still with me. It is a somewhat comforting reminder of the depth of my feelings. After all, I found I am still human. For that, I am grateful.

Nevertheless I would ask of you to help me still my hands by muting your sometimes fierce and fiery tongues – because we both know, it will be for the better… in the end. You were never meant to stay.
Let’s both be brave and get this over with. I know you can do it.
And so can I.

Sincerely,
the Recovering

Late

Belief and Hope are Siamese twins.
If Hope fades, can Belief survive?