An Open Letter

I dream from within you. I told you that before and yet I don't think you fully understand what that means.

It means I know.

I know because I see them there...the alter egos you slip on. I don't share those dreams publicly. I have held back.

I know when I talk to them because I can feel it. I feel it when I am drained of my energy after talking to you as them for a short time. I always feel the urge to make an excuse and stop talking...to run far and fast away. But I fight the urge and stay, opening my veins and allowing you to drain me.

The reason for this draining is not that you are consciously an energy vampire, but the holes caused by your story as them makes it impossible for there to be an equal energy exchange. I give and give and am nothing but honest and authentic with you. I don't get an equal amount of energy flowing back because it is lost in the holes, fictions and fabrications. And so the current between us is flawed, leaving me drained and wanting to flee.

The only thing I have been guilty of is playing along when I knew all along it was you. Granted, you were convincing in the role. You should get an Oscar for writing and performance, but sometimes there were inconsistencies that let your secret out and stood as little reminders that it was a charade you were playing at.

Haven't we danced and played long enough for you to trust me by now? Isn't it time we end the charade and stand naked before one another? No more lies. No more games. No more masks.

I could be angry but I am not. I am just extraordinarily tired. I only want to talk to you...the real you, not the false personas you created.

Here is some soap, my love. Let me help you wash so you can come clean at last.