Dear beat-down and broken-apart me, The term you are looking for is “workplace bullying”, and, no, there is no explanation that will make you feel okay. Your job has turned so ugly that you are consumed with the dread of the next day even as you lock up the office each night. Ironically, you’re spending more and more time there, although it’s the last place you want to be. You are paranoid, depressed, and riddled with anxiety.
Dear Carla, Nothing in your life will prepare you for the fall of 2007 – for that span of time when your heart enters a griefdeeperthanwords. On October 1, the sky will be gray and dark, and it will drizzle a mist-like rain – just enough to cover your tears. That day you will give birth. It won’t be your first time giving birth, so you will know what to expect.
Dear freshly-broken-up-with teenage me, It hurts to write this letter. Even decades later, I can still feel the pangs of loneliness that blindside you/me as the guy you thought was your forever love distances himself further and further. And, truth be known, it’s a bit embarrassing now to think of how you/I acted throughout this breakup. Desperation is a powerful motivator and an awful dictator. Let me start by reassuring you that you do meet your real forever love.