Dear Edens,
I want you to know you have sucker punched me for the last time. I find our love/hate relationship to be toxic with it’s deceitful mind games.

This morning you let me in. It was wonderful. I was late and frantic and you seemed so forgiving with your free-flowing acceptance of my speed as if to say, “It’s OK that you’re late. Here. Let me make things a little easier on you. Let me help you catch up.”

Then SMACK. You had me on my hands and knees, crawling along, controlling my every move for the last mile of my commute. What would have taken me 30 minutes turned into an hour just because you’re up to your usual hormonal control tactics. I can’t live like this anymore. I never know what to expect. You have some serious mood disorders, Edens.

You know, really. How dare you. I have things to do and places to be. I can’t bend to your every whim. Some days you’re fun, light and playful. Other days you’re just downright stubborn and mean. Then there are days like today where you seem like you’re trying to help, like you’re genuinely trying to make my life a little smoother. But what seems loving and kind on the surface is really just sadistic and evil once you pull the layers back. There is no way for me to predict where things will go with us, Edens. I’m sick of being ready to go and having to wait around for an hour for you to get your shit together. If I go to the trouble to show up on time, the least you can do is be ready as well. It’s just rude. We’re always on your schedule. I find you selfish and inconsiderate. Oh sure, I can get to where I need to go with you on time, if YOU feel like it.

I have needs Edens, and you’re not meeting them.

I think we need some time apart. From now on, I’ll be spending more time with Lincoln. Don’t call. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to see you again.