Unsent Letters

Dear Miss Bit my girl of pure goodness and grace,

I’m sorry that grown adults do not have the same abundant stores of kindness and empathy that you possess in your young years. I’m sorry that you are more inclusive and careful with other’s feelings than people who are seven times your age. I’m sorry that you are only truly content when everyone around you is happy, and that other people take advantage of your good nature, and feel threatened by your loving spirit. I’m sorry that I can only protect you from cruel and ugly intentions of the mother by severing ties with the daughter. I’m sorry that you may not understand just why I cannot ever again put you out there in her world all sweetness and goodness...it's simply too vulnerable of a position in which to leave you. I’m sorry that the act that showed the quality of your character illuminated the dark depravity of her’s. I'm sorry that people we call friends hurt us, and that adults you know as protectors chip away at your trusting innocence. And I’m so sorry that I cannot promise you that this will be the last person to hurt you, but I can promise you it will be the last time this person hurts you.

Dear middle aged, mean girl mother of two,

I'm sorry you still live like you are in high school decades later. I'm even sorry that something obviously happened to make you so insecure that you feel the need to malign others in your desperate urge to claw your way to the top. I'm sorry that you are a role model for two lovely young girls, who will likely end up just as wounded and toxic as you one day. I'm sorry that you didn't get to see my girl's lip quiver or her eyes well up and almost over when you excluded her from a day of fun with her friends. I'm sorry that you didn't get to hear the anxiety in the voice of a mutual friend and mother who had to call to do your dirty work for you. I'm sorry that I even gave you the benefit of the doubt the last couple years despite the fact that I've seen you hurt other people I care for and know to be my true friends. And what I'm most sorry about is that I am too "nice" of a person to ever tell you this face to face.

Dear cathartic unsent letters,

So many times have you saved me from losing my mind and running my mouth. I always feel the load lifted and the venom neutralized when I speak my mind for you to hear. I've written to parents, friends, lovers and even God in heated and in healing moments. You remind me that words once spoken or written and delivered can never really be taken back. You are much cheaper than therapy and you allow me to walk away with my head held high knowing that I have had the very last word!