Letters From an Anonymous Reality

Letter 3

Dear Red-Conversed Girl,

You don't know me anymore. You never knew me in the first place, but you thought you did because I spilled my secrets and let you play with me like a toy, your own personal doll, cast aside until there were no real games to play. Right? Oh, sure, you'd deny it, but that's how it was. Well, whether you knew me or not, you don't now. That's probably why I'm so open to you again. You don't know how horrible I've become because all the laughs and fake smiles fool you. You've always been able to fool because you just want a mirror, a toy, anything but a real person. 

I'm going to let you push me around some more. I'll let you because I am lonely and have nothing better to do. I could try to believe we are becoming friends, but I know that's not true. I know it's not true because you don't know me at all. You've made it clear that you never cared, and you will never see the pain you put me through. This could be a bad decision, opening myself up to you again, but I won't let you hurt me this time. Ok, I will probably will, but it won't be like last time when I thought you could be the best, and you left. You always left. Well this time I don't need you. I have other people, who really care and really listen. So I will let you have the privilege of spending time with me, but I am free from you. 

Don't get me wrong, you're nice to have around, and you can be pretty nice. I just don't want to deal with all of this anymore because the world is both and bigger and smaller than you will ever realize. I have never felt the need to fight with other people every single day because I am too busy fighting my own mind. But you would never know that because you would never ask, or listen. Yes, you have problems, but you have normal people problems, the same problems as everyone else like us. You're the kind of teenage girl crazy that will go away in about three years. I'm the kind of actual crazy that has to watch her mouth, so she doesn't get sent away, the kind of crazy that started when I was born into a history of crazy and will never truly end. I am the kind of crazy that means a lifelong battle, and I have been there to support you, but you've never been here to even listen to me. 

There will be more letters with plenty of mood swings and changes in perspective, but for now, I am out of things to say. I know you will never read this because you will never care enough to even ask what my account is, and if you did it would be nothing more than a formality. You will never read this. You will never care, will you? Oh well, I will never learn. 

-Your Doll