December 5 – Let Go.
What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?
(Author: Alice Bradley)
I would say "meat," but I did buy a pair of leather shoes last month. PRADA leather shoes. But at least I'm not eating animals anymore. I cannot say the same for processed, non-animal soy patties that taste like chicken. Those are awesome.
I could absolutely say "sex," since it's been well over a year since I've gotten any, but a long-winded post on celibacy would probably make my mom uncomfortable, mostly because odds are she's getting laid more than I am at half her age and that's weird. But good for her, if that's indeed the case (by the way, I really don't need/want to know either way, so let's pretend those last few sentences never happened. I'm still a virgin).
I'd like to believe I let go of Army John, but after talking to his mom last month, I was reminded of that failed relationship. I'm still angry with him and the way things ended. I don't think I need calm, adult, logical closure, but I need him bound to a chair with duct tape in a sound-proof room and 30 minutes to scream and beat the shit out of him until I feel better.
I thought maybe I could write about [redacted], but I'm still angry (upset? I don't know) that she chose to end her life. It still doesn't seem fair: to us, to her, to anyone. I think that in my desire to let go, I ignore how little I've actually been able to do so and how last November still haunts me with all the things left unsaid.
I really want to write about giving up part of my family, because I think I've finally come to terms with that. I've stopped blaming myself for the short-comings of others and know that your *real* family are the people you choose to be closest to you. Love isn't conferred by birthright (um, obviously). But, honestly, the entire situation is complicated and makes me very sad and I don't really feel the need to publicly write about it. I also don't need to be Googled by said family then listen to angry voicemails about my writing (note: I didn't get voicemails when I graduated with my master's, but I'll get them about something I write online. Sorry to be crass, but fuck that noise, right?).
I guess what I'm thinking is that I'm bad at letting go.
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