Letters I wont Send 2/3

dear new no longer friend,

i so wanted to believe we were friends. You pretended we were.

I hate that I counted past three.

I am sad that you revealed you were the monster that interfered when i was new here and washing, that you then derided me, saying some people
just don't appreciate help, when all you did at the time was frighten
and interrupt me. That you, going blind, think that kind of behavior was and is okay,

Then the time you hit me on the bus and hurt my knees
like it was a ha ha and it wasn't. It hurt through the paralysis and added to my constant pain.
How dare you!

And so slowly i realized that i was just a tissue for you.

This is your homeland and your family is near. I foolishly shared the little i had, the little access, the freebies, the extras.

And slowly it has dawned on me, that you share nothing, really. Not the family you talk about, nor even the opportunity to pick something up when your friends take you shopping.

My lack is mobility, not insight or feeling. I am so sad to realize how jive you are.

Letters I Won't Send 3/3

I suddenly realized that i should post these here on my blog. The miscreants I write about won't read them, so why not?

This is the latest one:
dear bible study group,

i won't return. i should have left as soon as i realized that it was organized by the same self centered biddy who brought a baby to our thursday matinee and remained, right in front of me, who could not run away, with the screaming, restless, nosy armling throughout the whole movie.

And i should not have stayed after i was left to struggle in the door unassisted --- aid only being offered as i struggled to replace the chair i had to move to get in the door

and i should have left when i suggested the door be left open for bit, in case anyone else was looking for the meeting as neighbors in the other half of the community room were partying and not in the mood to direct anyone next door.

Because no, they did not tell me the meeting was on the other side of the divider and why make finding it hard?

And i won't come back, because no one asked my name nor told me their's
only aksing if i had a bible with me and if I had a piece of paper. And yes, I came with all of that.

And i won't come back because I was not asked what i migh know or want to know

And i won't come back because we actually read next to nothing, instead only glanced at verses while the old man spoke from another place and time

And i won't come back because i dropped my bible as i packed up and in so doing lost my tiny knitting needle.

and no one called me back for it, nor picked it up and so yes it was there the next day, a white arrow on the dark floor, pointing toward the door.
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