Dear Chuck,
Are you really killing yourself to live? Are you sure that
life is what’s killing you? I’m not so sure. I learned in my Psychology 101
class in college that we are in control of our emotions. As Michelle Obama said
in her speech at the Democratic National Convention, “When they go low, we go
high.” We always have the opportunity to transcend our circumstances – haven’t
you heard quotes about that? “It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how
you play the hand.” I know you’ve
heard that before!
When I ran into you yesterday on the streets of Kensington,
you told me that you were looking for love. You told me that some girl named
Quincy whom you used to love decided to get married, but that you aren’t upset
about it. You told me you viewed her marriage as a loss; it was a game, there
was a winner, and there was a loser. You were the loser.
You talked about how certain people become the model for
what love should feel like, and that Quincy will forever be your barometer.
I asked why you came to Kensington. You said that you drove
until you felt like you’d arrived. I asked what that meant. You said you always
knew when you had found love. I don’t know how I feel about your blanket
statements, Chuck.
Before you left, you told me that you were dying. You said
that every time someone left you, a piece of your soul died – slowly, and then
all at once. I asked you to look around. I asked you to read the news. I asked
you to question what you were thinking. I asked you to open your eyes.
And, I’m not sure you will, Chuck. You will probably go back
to Spin Magazine and fall in love and
out of love and continue making melodramatic statements. That’s okay, I guess. That’s
okay.
- Bess
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