Dear Anxiety
by Elizabeth Anderson
Dear Anxiety,
I've been thinking about you for a while now. It's been months since we've seen each other, or at least for long enough to talk. I know you've been around here and there, but I was just wondering if you missed me at all. I mean, we had a lot of good times together. We were practically best friends by the time you left.
It's hard to believe how fast you went, and I can't help but imagine what would have happened if you'd have stuck around a little longer, even after I sent you away. As for that, I can't really say whether I'm sorry I did it or not. For the first couple of days, it was hard to live without you, and I had to force myself not to invite you back. You were too destructive to me, even with those wondrous years we'd spent together. Even with all the joy, you brought me terrible misery, and I couldn't deal with that any more. So I snapped out of it, just as you snapped me into it.
I've learned to live without you now, and even though I sometimes miss you, I know I can't bring you back. That's why this letter won't ever be sent to you, read by you. It's just a little something to myself, a piece of a precious memory that helped make me a better person, a stronger person. That's one thing I have to thank you for.
So, Anxiety, what are you doing now? Traipsing around the universe looking to hitch a ride? That's what I thought. Good luck with your travels, and good luck with finding someone who will want you.
Your old friend,
E
I've been thinking about you for a while now. It's been months since we've seen each other, or at least for long enough to talk. I know you've been around here and there, but I was just wondering if you missed me at all. I mean, we had a lot of good times together. We were practically best friends by the time you left.
It's hard to believe how fast you went, and I can't help but imagine what would have happened if you'd have stuck around a little longer, even after I sent you away. As for that, I can't really say whether I'm sorry I did it or not. For the first couple of days, it was hard to live without you, and I had to force myself not to invite you back. You were too destructive to me, even with those wondrous years we'd spent together. Even with all the joy, you brought me terrible misery, and I couldn't deal with that any more. So I snapped out of it, just as you snapped me into it.
I've learned to live without you now, and even though I sometimes miss you, I know I can't bring you back. That's why this letter won't ever be sent to you, read by you. It's just a little something to myself, a piece of a precious memory that helped make me a better person, a stronger person. That's one thing I have to thank you for.
So, Anxiety, what are you doing now? Traipsing around the universe looking to hitch a ride? That's what I thought. Good luck with your travels, and good luck with finding someone who will want you.
Your old friend,
E