Hi Bill,

Am I asking too much? Again? In the end I’m just a girl in the world, trying to get by without getting my throat slit. You know what I mean. I must be a very fine actress, if you think that I am only strong and tough. Sometimes I’d like you to really know me, but then again … where’s the point in that? It’s not like you will be the one that doesn’t leave, isn’t it? I will get you on your feet again, point you in the right direction and off you’ll go. And if I can get it into your head and heart that strong and insensitive aren’t the same things, maybe I will have achieved something. Or not. Or whatever.

You say you can’t trust me, like it is breaking news. I don’t even trust myself, so tell me something I don’t know. You, on the other hand, you are one fine example of stability to the world. You know what I mean. You say yes and then you call me to say no or just maybe. And I am cool with that, aren’t I? But I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad … Like I have to be something for you, the rock you can build your church upon and I deliver the goods. But you want to know where I will stand or be in a couple of months and will I still love you or care for you or whatever. Like I know that shit, Bill. Should I know that shit?

I try so hard not to want something or someone or anything at all. I just need my own space or I feel like I am drowning, endlessly. So I go home and lock myself in a room and just sit there. Try to breathe without pain. Concentrate. In. Out. In. Again. Do you know that feeling, Bill?

So yeah, Bill. Maybe I ask too much of you. A little space, a little time. But then again, why should I settle for less?

Bye Bill,

Uma.