Dear E:

I have a hard time telling people who you are. I can't really describe you as my ex, because you never will admit we loved each other. Maybe WE didn't. But I sure loved you. I can't descibe you as just a friend, because you were so much more than that. So most of the time, I just describe you as 'the boy who broke my heart'. I know, it's cheesy and campy and cliche, but it's true. So I hope you understand when I say that I am having a very hard time feeling sorry for you now that you are the one with a broken heart.

True, I was nice and chatted with you. True, I tried to cheer you up. I don't even know if your heart was broken, entirely. But I know you wanted him SO BAD. In your mind, he was totally your type: both of you big and manly and muscular and in the medical field, both of you looking for something stable to get you through your two years on the island. So it hurt, didn't it, when you saw him kissing that younger, browner, cuter boy? When you heard that he had said you were 'not his type'? When you realized he had rejected you without so much as letting you know?

You remember how you got all excited when he finally FINALLY agreed to go on a date with you? You nerviously got dressed, did your hair up good, got ready to impress the hell out of him... only to be sorely disappointed at the outcome of the night. Not even a good night kiss! How could something that you had pictured so perfect in your mind go so wrong so fast?

Does any of this sound like exactly what happened a year ago? Let me rewind the reel for you, back up to before you or I came out.

I remember a depressed, confused boy who lived in the body of a beast, a boy searching for someone to listen to him and help him figure himself out. Someone to love him and tell him it was OK to be this boy-beast who loved other men and wanted to be loved back by them. I remember writing letters back and forth in a fury, both of us struggling to express who we were and what we wanted out of life and love. I remember doing this for MONTHS, being your sole confidant. I remember it progressing to "I love you" and flirtatious texts and thoughtful deeds. I remember that I loved you before you were skinny, before you turned heads, before you moved to the big city and had a circle of hot friends around you that you felt you needed to fit in with and started shedding pounds and morals. I loved you when you were confused and hurting and needing someone to love you. All I ever wanted was for you to love me back, and I thought you did.

And then came the summer, and the much-anticipated visit, and the dance on the beach, and clothes coming off the instant your parents walked out the door every day and shushing each other at night so we didn't wake them in the other room. It was the best four days of my life up until that week, and I was in heaven. I thought I had found you, that I had my one. I went home, head in the clouds, thinking things were going to continue like they had for 6 months.

I was so wrong. The utter silence that followed was a million times worse than if you had just slapped my face and told me you hated me. Weeks I waited to hear from you, forced myself to not write, to not bother you. And as time wore on, my love for you ebbed and was replaced by hurt and anger. And when I finally wrote you, broken hearted and finished, all I needed was notice that you had moved on, not a letter telling me you were tired of me.

So I hope you can understand, dear E, why I told you I loved you and always would. And I hope you can understand why I was so happy to hear that your heart had been stomped on by a man much hotter than you. Maybe now you can understand what you did to me, how you took my hope and desires for something good and something that seemed perfect and tossed them to the side like they didn't matter at all.

I don't want your love anymore. I moved past that. I will always love you, I wasn't lying when I said that. All I want from you are two words: I'm Sorry. Before this happened, it wouldn't have meant much, just that you were sorry you had done something you maybe shouldn't have. Now, though, it will mean so much more because you know how it hurts and you will be sorry because you caused ME that pain, because you did that to ME. And maybe it will show you how much I cared about you, to be able to talk to you while you were down about it... and not kick you.

I doubt you'll ever say you're sorry. That's ok, because I doubt this is a letter I'll ever send.

I love you, and I always will,
D

Dear So-Called Friends,

I now understand why I didn't want to pursue a friendship with you guys anymore... You make me feel like crap. I don't like being treated as the third wheel. Just because I may do things that you don't agree with doesn't give you the right to talk about me in the next room when I can hear you. Yea I may be spending a lot of time with my fiance but let me give you a clue why. One he listens and doesn't judge me like you do. Two he makes me feel wanted and loved unlike you guys. I don't care if you don't like him. I love him and that's all that matters.

Also you guys can be fun to hang out with sometimes but when other people are included my fiance and I end up being the third wheel. Were sick of it, high school ended 5 years ago grow up and treat us with respect. Oh and that trip you took up to Sandusky made us feel like crap. We don't want to see status updates about how much fun your having we could care less. My fiance and I would have at least loved an invitation to join you, but apparently we're not good enough for you.

On another note no I haven't forgiven you for what you did to me in high school. Always being the third wheel and being talked down to was not okay. My first year of college I went through depression and where were you? Oh that's right nowhere to be found. I was at the lowest moment of my life and you couldn't even call me. I tried calling you but you were too busy for me. I hope you know I cried myself to sleep every night I was there I hope that makes you feel better about yourself. At that point everyone left me, and when I came back you still weren't there. I guess I expected too much from you guys. I'm pretty much over my depression now thanks to the love and patience of my fiance, but it always seems to come back when your around.

I'd just like to say this to you, I'm done. If you want to get angry at me over stupid crap go right ahead, if you want to judge me or my fiance go for it. We're happy together and we have found meaning in our lives. We're tired of your crap. And no longer value your opinion. I hope you grow up soon.

Were going to go look for better friends now...

Sincerely,
Bitter

Dear Future Husband,

For the past few years, statistics have been trying to convince me that you don’t exist. They say that my skin color, my intelligence and my undergraduate degree pretty much guarantee that you’ll never come along. I’m sorry to say that I’m starting to believe it.

My whole life, I’ve always been taught in church that I’m supposed to be found by my husband because “He who findeth a wife findeth a good thing.” Therefore, it’s not my place to be approaching men because good, Christian (and Southern) girls don’t do that. It makes you appear thirsty or loose and we just don’t do that.

Now I found out that I’m supposed to be looking for my Boaz. As I understand it, Ruth asked Boaz to marry her. So based on my Bible teachings, I’m confused. Am I supposed to be looking for you or are you supposed to be looking for me? I bought into it and now I wonder if I’ve pass you by or if you were simply too shy. Perhaps I haven’t exactly been putting out what it is that I want to get back. Sure I get the funny, intelligent brothas. What I don’t get is assertive, self-assured dudes who are ready for commitment.

I’m starting to wonder if you were even created for me and whether or not we’ll ever find each other. Honestly, I’m not getting any younger and I do want to have children while I’m young enough to match their energy. But really, who am I kidding? Odds are you probably don’t exist and it’s time for me to grip reality that you and our children may not be in the cards for me.

So, I am going to save myself the heartache and trouble and vow to have a life full of the three F’s – fun, foolishness and fuckery. I don’t see the sense in preparing myself for a family that probably won’t happen. From this day forward, I will push aside feelings of attachment and this need to nest.

So, farewell to you, sir. The idea of you and our life together was as sweet as my letting it go is sorrowful. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hope life is good.

Sincerely,
Smarty

Dearest T,

I passed by our tree the other day and smiled. The same one you tried to hide behind to make me laugh because there was no way on God's green earth you would ever be able to conceal yourself. One smile led to a laugh and an onslaught of emotion I suppressed and didn't address the day I slammed the door on you and me. Guess what? You were the love of my life. Did I ever tell you that? Yes, you were the end all and be all of my existence. I was so consumed with trying to keep my composure intact that day I didn't bother to tell you the truth which was I didn't want to let go of us.

From the moment you took exception to my indifference, I knew we would be forever. You remember that day in the cafe... I was eating lunch by myself and you sat at the table with me. I gave you the formal greeting which included every single letter of your government name. You knew something was wrong but didn't know the cause. You knew I wasn't happy but you also knew I wasn't angry either. It irked you that you didn't receive my smile. You even said so. "You didn't smile. You usually smile at me." I looked at you and acknowledged I wasn't giving you my smile. You pestered me until I had no choice but to tell you what was the matter.

It was then you learned of my past. You took me into your arms and vowed to me I didn't have to worry anymore. You became my protector. I then smothered my protector. So much so you had no choice but to stray. I expected you to mature sooner than you were supposed to. Emotionally, mentally you were too young to deal with me and my issues. In my insecurity, I placed my whole future in us instead of enjoying you as the moments were present upon us. We didn't experience the true fullness of being a couple we were meant to.

We had fun. At least I think we did. The late nights. The conversations. The sex. The sex was delicious. It was the breath of fresh air to a closed up recluse. I was wrong for expecting you to heal the wounds made by another. The fact you weren't capable of doing so caused me to become argumentative and vindictive. Hurting you so you could feel the pain I internalized when I simply could have verbalized and released it.

T, I take full responsibility for my actions in our breakup. I know when I closed the door that day I had pointed the finger at you when it should have been pointed at me equally. Yes, you did dirt, too, but it was nowhere near the soiled adventures I took us on. I should have been accountable and maybe just maybe we could have moved forward together but my pride pushed me forward and my guilt kept me from turning back because I knew most of the damage done was at my own hand. I ask you to forgive me. Forgive me for the pain and suffering I put you through. I put myself through. I put us through. It wasn't your fault as much as it was mine. Please forgive me so I may let go and let love find me once again.

Love always,
Lady K

Key:

Peace!

I am writing about something I should have sat down and talked to you about a very long time ago. Although my actions say otherwise, I love you as if you were my own son. I did not think about these feelings until I talked to your brother about it and he admitted that you remember more about our time together as a functioning family then you do. I had to point out that I have known you since you were 6 months old.

When your mother and I broke up, I thought I would continue to be considered your father. It makes sense right? You were calling me "daddy" since you could talk. Since that time, while home on leave or on liberty from the Navy, we spent more time together then I did with your mother. When we had no car, I took the almost 2 hour bus ride to drop you off at school. I remember the times your mother went out to the clubs on Thursday and Friday evenings and you and I would eat a whole pint of Haagen Daz ice cream together.

When your mother told me that our relationship as father and son had to end, I was heartbroken. To be honest, I never forgave your mother for that. When she made this suggestion I protested. Of course, she shot me down. She was your mother. Before I dropped the subject, I told her that she would regret that decision. Ironically, your mother never hesitated to ask for money to help purchase an item you needed.

There were also times when your mother complained about you and I suggested having you live with me and she refused. I will also point out that a good number of things that I reveal in this letter I have never told anyone else before except my wife.

Over the years, you have stated how you were upset at my approach to our relationship. When I came to pick up your brother, you wouldn't greet me. At times, you were disrespectful to me and my family. I ignored those acts with an understanding that you did not know what you were doing. I want to point out that despite the fact that I didn't fight for you when I should, my family has considered you a son and have argued that I should have stepped up when your mother asked me to stepped down.

I have come to learn that your mother has recently kicked you out of her home after she finally got married. It broke my heart that your mother washed her hands of you. While I admit that you have been difficult, the things you have done are very, very trivial and I find them to be the rebelliousness of your youth. I know you are a good
person. At times you are misguided and like the rest of us, are emotionally wounded. Yes, you are a product of a rape but that doesn't make you less of a person.

I miss and love you and wish that I had been more aggressive in the manifestation of that love. I should have been more vocal when your mother made that decision. Yet I just did the motions and stepped off. I should have snatched you up to live with me all those years ago when you had trouble in school. When you were in trouble with the law, I should have arrived in court to support you. I should have called you and said, "come stay with me, brother."

I know at times you look at me and my family and wonder how it all might have turned out if I stepped up. At times, I do the same thing. I only ask that you find it in your heart to forgive me. Yes, I do accept blame. It's a tough pill to swallow and forgiveness is a tough thing for me as well. It does not change the fact that deep down inside, I still see you as a son.

Sincerely,

Dan Tres Omi

Dear Steven,

*sigh*

I've written many letters and have not sent them. I always say, this time I will send it. I've written them in anger, and when I've been happy. If I thought for one moment you could take it, I'd give you them all, but no. For every step we take forward, we go back five.

You were someone I really liked, and for me, that says a lot. You're everything I want or I thought wanted. You've made me grow up a lot in the last two years. I'm older than you but only in age. Me being a virgin is the only thing that has kept us friends this long. No matter how many times we tried, it never worked out that way for us.

I want you as a friend and we are slowly making our way. I hope one day I can stop thinking of you as mine, and learn to share. Until then I'm going to hate every bitch you bring around....because you're mine. Your presence calms me. Your voice makes me smile. Your happiness make me happy.

I don't like many things about you, especially the lying and half truths. I wish we had a friendship where you felt comfortable to be your whole you. One day, maybe. Or maybe it's just not meant for me, and that makes me sad.

I should've known to let go you earlier on. I mean, at one point your name was "shady ass flacky ass steve" in my phone. So I guess you showed me who you were and my dumbass looked at your potential instead. I'm living and learning, and you've been one of my biggest lessons. And I keep learning from you. One day I'll say your name and feel nothing.

Well at least that's my hope.

Signed,
Thanks for the Lesson

Dear Pa,

I almost feel guilty writing this to you. I have always played around with the idea of telling you how I feel but have changed my mind, for fear that I may be out of line. I wish I could go back into your childhood and understand why you are the person you have become – emotionally distant, a dogged hardworker and awfully abrasive. With the exception of the emotional piece, I see myself in you.

Those similarities are what drive me insane. As a child, I wanted to be near you at all costs. I wanted you to be around me and enjoy my company. I saw our physical similarities – the eyes and the nose-- and as a trivial youngster thought that was enough to make a connection. Even when we tried the whole “normal family living gig” I was struck by the similarities in our impatient attitudes and way we dismiss people – with our hands.

Or maybe, I took on those mannerisms just to be like you – craving the attention I never received. I would love when you came around – even if it only meant you threw a few 20’s at mom and called it “child support”. Yeah right. You owe that woman more money than you have ever made. You owe her your complete gratitude and appreciation for raising a child that you barely wanted with such selflessness and commitment.

The real reason for this letter is to ask why you have never said I love you. Just three simple words- not simple but hopefully honest. I mean, I cannot imagine how hard it may have been to grow up without your mother around –craving attention from your grandmother who probably had just enough energy to put food on the table and protect you from being a victim of the rampant poverty in central region of DR. Maybe your mom or your dad never told you they loved you.

I wonder if it is because your plan never included having children – seeing them as a distraction towards your rampant conquest of any Dominican woman dumb enough to fall for your crap. Maybe. I do not have a fucking clue why you would not love me. Well, maybe because I do not call you enough or seem to care about you. Or because I seem to only respond when you buy me something – the car I drive and so much more. Forgive me but it was the sole way you seemed to ever show me that you cared as I grew up– with your wallet.

I have tried to do it all to make you love me more – not becoming a statistic, going to an Ivy, not becoming a teen mom, not cursing in your presence, going to church, working in a well respected profession, and even losing weight. Yup, even that. In the back of my mind for the past years, I wondered if you did not love me but I was not thin enough. But, to date, you have not even mentioned anything about my weightloss – positive or negative.

I am rambling at this point, but my question is simple. I know that you are proud of me. I think that you have at least said that before. Well not directly to me as that has never been your style. But your friends and some of the family has mentioned it in conversation. As you get older and the everpresent reality that your tenure on Earth is coming to , as your only child – your daughter – I just need to hear you say it.

-MG

Dear Tiffany,

You are not OK. You haven't been OK for a long time now. The faster you accept it, the sooner you can move forward and get the help you need.

Standing at the threshold of your 28th year is the time where you should be taking a look around and figuring out your options.

While no one expects you to put the rest of your life together you should have some idea of where you're headed and some way of getting there.

Thus far, life has been fairly easy for you. You've managed to meet all the goals you set as a clueless teenager from Podunk, North Carolina.

While most people would see being the first in your family to graduate from college, doing it early, working in your career field and managing to break the family cycle of children out of wedlock, you have managed to convince yourself that you are a failure.

You've taken life's little setbacks and turned them into valleys so deep that light can't get through.

Thus far, you've been able to compartmentalize and shake off depression in order to complete minimal tasks. But as of late, you lack of focus, inability to concentrate and unwillingness to leave your bed on weekends and face it, some weekdays, has started to frighten your family, your friends and most of all yourself.

Depression is an evil bitch that you don't have to fight alone. All you have to do is ask for help. If not for your family and friends, do it for yourself. They don't deserve to watch you suffer and neither do you.

How many more days can you go without making eye contact with yourself in the mirror? How many more nights can you go with only two hours of sleep, if you get any at all?

I'm begging you, please, talk to somebody. This time, don't just make the appointment with the therapist, go. Hell, go early. You're fucking up and this ain't you. #fixit

Love,
Yourself

Dude,

I have this 34 year old stigma that has sorta disallowed me to accept that someone could actually like me. It's one of those things I could blame my mother for (one of the many, MANY things I could blame her for) but I figure that since I'm in my mid-thirties that I should really take responsibility for fixing it. And I really want to believe you're interested in me ... LAWD, I really want to. But the signs aren't nearly as blatant as I need them.

Blatant - you know, like you screaming at me about 2 inches from my face, "I LIKE YOU!" That's the blatant I need. And you're clearly not giving me blatant.

And the reason I want to know is because I'm crushing on you something awful. I can't even be bothered ... with myself! I'm totally stupid about it and the time we spend hanging out is such bitter-sweetness. Sweet because ... well, it's ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. And bitter because ... your'e not fucking giving me blatant.

I've been advised to take it slow and enjoy the ride. That, sir - has never been me. Slow does NOT equal enjoy the ride. Slow = meplayingheadgameswithmyselfoverwhetherornotyoulikeme. And hence this letter. That you'll never see.

Never.

Because my neuroses are splattered all over this here place like I'm a windshield and it's washer fluid. Sure - it wipes off, but it's always there, on the fringes. So, you seriously can't know ...

... that I laugh uproariously on the inside at every funny thing you say - and that it takes my mustering every ounce of *whateverthehellitisIuse* not to literally ROTFL with each joke

... that I pathetically check my cell phone throughout the day JUST in case you sent me a text I missed

... that I ponder seriously how to respond when you DO text - and I often times have a few drafts before I actually hit send.

... that I seriously almost throttled that other dude that was hitting on you right there in front of me and God and EVERYBODY. Or that I seriously despise him now and there's not hope for his crossing over into the friend zone. ever.

... that I keep a mental list of the things I'd buy you if we ever WERE an item.


And you really can't know that I'm not fixated on sex - it's you. The way you carry yourself. The way you speak. It's your worldview and your sense of humor ... your dedication to a goal. The person that is you attracts me ... and it feels like I'm being sucked into a vortex.

But you best believe I'm going to continue to be easy, cool and not-crazy-like whenever we spend time together. Because, dare I say it, even if you aren't feeling me at all ... It's cool that I know you and that we get to be boys. Even if we're not (marriedlivingtogehterinahugehousewithanenormouslawnandawhitepicketfence) an item.

-me

Dear Lil Sis,

How do I even start this letter? How do I find the words to tell you, little sister, it was NOT your fault. None of it was ever your fault.

In the last few months you've been sad and spiraling into the curse that has plagued our family for years...depression, and I know you see it, too. So let's talk this out starting with our Father. Yes I know you would like to paint a rosy picture of what life would have been if he was around but that's because you were too young to remember him and his trifling ways.

No he never hit mommy or cursed at her; he tried to break her emotionally. And I'm sure in private she had her moments but then she looked at us and knew it wasn't worth it. HE wasn't worth it. Our mother chose to raise us. She wasn't abandoned as so many single moms are. She called to her ancestors, her father long passed away and she prayed for strength and they delivered her and US. Though a crucial part of our lives was without the daily presence of a father, we were 10 times luckier to have a mother that moved mountains. We were afforded opportunities that other kids never would have had.

Take a minute and look back on our lives: you were 10 years old in Hawaii, a featured dancer with your African dance troop, and spent an entire Summer in Spain. How many kids did we know that could say these things? Even with two parents.

Mommy worked hard for us, going to a dead end job so she could afford to finish her studies, even taking us to class with her sometimes. She never complained, she just did it! She never once blamed us for his behavior, she even kept his last name to stay connected to us, and she never made us feel like he was an evil person. Her exact words "Some people just aren't ready to be full time parents, but you should still love your father, he loves you".

As we got older he'd appear here and there but mainly it was a check in the mail, a birthday card, an amazing drawing of the three of us but that never filled your void, never filled mine either.

And then I turned 25 and I made a decision to get closure on my own, because clearly he wasn't going to ever provide that and honestly I wasn't interested. I've been free of him for 10yrs now. And in that 10 years I've taken the path my mother prayed for all those nights and now its your turn! You're a beautiful, smart, and talented woman and you are throwing all that out the window because you want for a father, a father that even now manages to only appear when he feels the need to. He hasn't changed, HE WON'T change. But you have to before this eats you alive.

If you don't do it for you do it for your daughter and your mother. But it's time! It's time to stop blaming yourself and lay that emotional burden at the feet of your God and walk away. I promise you it's a lot easier and painless. When we were kids you would recite John 3:16 over and over "for God so loved the world he gave his only be gotten son" well Lil Sis he gave his son so you would never feel like you had to save the world, the people of the world, YOUR FATHER included.

Now you're grown and you feel like some of the bad decisions you've made relate to him. Well, maybe they do. It's still no reason to continue making bad decisions. You're not 17 anymore. My point is that you've learned to recognize the bad so now you need to rid yourself of it and reclaim your happiness. A happiness that you're only entitled to if you participate in it.

I'm sure if you got a chance to read this letter you'd ask me why I'm writing this? Well I'm worried about you, and more importantly your daughter. She's experiencing the same thing only worse because she's an only child. Who does she have to turn to and hide behind? No one. We were lucky there were 3 of us. If she can't depend on you to be strong and selfless who will she ever be able to depend on? When her teen years roll around in a few short years, and her hormones control her every thought, she'll need to have some foundation and she won't if you're depressed.

Of course she'll have us but you and I both know there is nothing like a parent's love in the moments where you're torn. I know you want so many things for yourself, that's normal. But right now you need to focus on her and what's to come in her life.

So I beg of you, stop blaming yourself for what was never your fault and live guilt-free for the sake of you and your magnificent daughter.

I love you with all my heart!

xoxo,
Krishna D.

The Ex-Factor 1.10.10

Dear XXXX,

I just want to let you know that I don't hate you. You did a horrible thing and I'm still trying to figure out why, but I don't hate you.

We knew each other for four years. Forget the whole 'relationship' aspect of what we became, you were my closest confident. You counseled me through some of the most difficult periods in my life. Though we were long distance, you were there more than people who made up my immediate circle. You seemed to work very hard to get me to trust you and then I do, only for you to tell me you're married with kids.

Four years. I'll never understand why you let this thing go on for that long. When the truth came out, we both said hurtful things. I meant what I said. You are a shitty person. Yes of course, some of my anger came from my own ego of having allowed someone to shit on me from a great height, once again, but there's certainly no denying that you are a shitty person. The things you said on the other hand, were lies. To say you never cared about me and the whole thing meant nothing is completely untrue and you know it. You put an awful lot of time, effort and money into someone you never cared about. It's about actions, remember and your actions showed you being a presence in my life virtually every day for those four years. You cared. Your immaturity showed when you only told the truth about your situation after I said I was over 'us'.

I'm not wearing that like a badge of honour. It certainly doesn't warm my heart to know that I thought someone else's husband was my boyfriend and genuinely cared about me. But however much you try to deny it, you did care.

I was mad for a couple of months, but I released it. The anger won't help me progress. I just have to believe that not every man is like you. Please God don't let every man be like you! I just feel sorry for you and your family for what you're doing to them. I feel guilty that all that time you'd spend on the phone with me at night, you should have been with your sons, helping them with their homework or cuddling with your wife. I hope that you're doing everything in your power to make it up to them now. It's infuriating that all the things I want (a marriage, kids), you have and are quite happily pissing all over. If I had those things, I would cherish them.

Here's the thing, I'm still heartbroken. Because I loved what I had with you and I'm sad it was all a lie. But mostly I'm heartbroken that any human can go out of their way to hurt someone like that. I'll be okay. But how do I ever trust someone again? How do I allow someone into my life and not think they'll do the same thing? Eventually I'll figure it out and I'm sure I'll spend my life with someone worthy. You on the other hand, will most likely continue to lie your way through yours and for that, I can do nothing but pity you. What a sad, sad existence you have.

I do genuinely hope that one day you man up and do what you're supposed to do.

Sincerely,
Muireann

To My Brother From Another Mother, E:

Peace!

It took me several days to figure out what I was going to write. I always have much to say. I didn't want to write a dissertation either. I wanted to get to the point but there always has to be background. What we go through is much more complicated that one assumes even though the solutions to our problems are simple.

First, I want to say this that I write this out of love. If I didn't love you, I would not bother to write this letter. We go back, brother. Back to a time when we were bachelors still trying to figure things out. During that interval in our lives, we became brothers because of where we were from and what we loved: hip hop culture. When we went our separate ways, I hoped that we would stay in contact but somehow in the age of instant messaging, we lost contact.

It came as a surprise that almost 10 years later, we found ourselves in Ohio only 55 miles apart. I was happy to speak to you and we immediately linked up. It was obvious that our reintroduction came at a time when you needed it the most. You were going through so much. My heart broke to find you in the manner that I did. I knew that if I did nothing, you would die.

Even back in the day, I saw your fall into Christian fundamentalism. Although I was critical in my skeptic ways, you never responded. I appreciate that and yet I hated the fact that you did not respond. I know that at times I can be abrasive when it comes to matters of religion and spirituality. I wanted to challenge you to deconstruct what you were being told. I wanted you to see the delusion you were being sold. I have many peers who somehow find God in their 30's only to become apathetic zombies and shells of their former selves. When we first met, I thought you were a warrior who would never fall for the okey doke.

Fast forward almost ten years later and you have become the Christian Taliban in the Midwest. You were challenging pastors on the minutiae in the Bible without a pot to piss in. I was sorely disgusted. You were always a hard worker and the best sales person I ever met. You could sell water to a whale as easy as the average person gets up from a chair. You were living in a one bedroom shack and never went outside unless it was to go to church. You gained so much weight you were wearing sweat suits in the summer. I was saddened at your mental and physical condition.

As you recanted your the events in your life in the past ten years, I could not help but see that I had a hand in that in some way. I was not the friend you needed me to be. I should have shook you back then and pointed out how you were following charlatans and pulpit pimps who were selling you nonsense. In your fierce loyalty, you followed these demons until they used you and left you in the gutter spent and hollow. I should have been there to tell these half men and degenerates off.

It bothers me that you cling to white folks who have no love for people of color. You have told me stories of their contempt for Blacks and Latinos and how in your blind faith you continue to pray for them. It's amazing how I can tell you when and how they would betray you and it happens but you continue to treat these people as if they were your own flesh and blood.

I know you, brother. I have known you before I even created my family. Those people you congregate with don't know you. They do not have your best interests in mind. I do. I urge you to seek help. You should seek counseling. You should reach out to your family who loves you. I dread the day that I head over to your place and find you dead in the hell they created for you. I dread the day I have to drive out in the wee hours of the night, armed like some street thug, to defend you against the white man you claims you raped his daughter.

They say that you can only help those that help themselves. I will wait patiently until you see the proverbial light. I will have you know that when that time comes, I will grab my pistols and knives and slay those demons who come in the night for you and never look back. When you call us in the middle of the night to come and get you, our home will be open to you as a sanctuary. I love you like the brother I never had. You know how deep that goes.

Your brother in the struggle,

Dan Tres Omi

The Ex-Factor 6.21.07

Welcome to my new site; How better to kick off this launch than with the letter I wrote that started it all, way back when I was still infatuated with a certain ex. Ladies and gentleman, for your reading pleasure...

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Dear D,

I'm not really even sure why I'm writing this. Maybe because I dwell on shit too much, unable to forgive or forget or let things go, even when I know that what went down between us was for the best, and I'm not looking to be in a long-term relationship with you (or anyone) anymore.

But I liked being the center of your world, the most important person in your life. Okay, maybe that's a bit much, a tad dramatic, but you know what I mean. You'd drop whatever and turn your whole schedule upside down to accommodate mine. Anything I wanted, needed- there you were with it. I got a little spoiled. I warned you not to do that, not to let me get comfortable, not to be so damn nice to me.

Did I ever even thank you? I can be so selfish sometimes. I never even said "I Love You" until after it was over and we were just friends. Because it's easy for me to say "I Love You" to a friend; that's old hat, second nature. But to say it to someone I'm dating? Why would I do that? Why would I let the guy I'm dating know how much he means to me? I'd never give anybody that much ammunition against me...

So our split was right. Justified. I was closed off. You were not ready. We were a hot ghetto mess together.

But sometimes when we talk, hang out, whatever, I can still see what drew me to you. Your piercing eyes...like they're looking right into me. Your energy, so bright and full of life; never a dull moment with you around. The way you still look out for me, genuine goodness and thoughtfulness...what's that about? Why can't you just be a dick so I can hate you?

But alas, you're such a dear. And I'm glad you're still in my life. My id would prefer it if you still had me on that pedestal, and my ego tries hard to re-create that experience for me everyday, but my superego understands that things worked out for the best for everybody involved.

Still, know that in a moment of weakness or drunken abandon (or sobriety...it really doesn't matter; any moment would do), my id would not kick you out of bed. Because on top of everything else, it was that good.