Dear Helen 02.06.2024

Dear Helen,

02.06.2024

You have disappointed me too much. I am no longer writing this diary and to you. This will be my last post and when I get a chance, I will delete all of the diary entries.

I have been writing to you for eight months almost every night. Hoping against hope. You read this diary every night I assume. And yet, everyone else and everything in your world is more important to you than me. Either you don’t care for me at all. Or you don’t care enough.

In the novel Vanity Fair, one day Dobby realises that Amelia just can’t understand how much he loves her. It is just one disappointment too much for him. So he goes away from her. It is a novel. She repents. She asks him to come back. I don’t expect that. This is reality. But following disappointment after disappointment, you have to accept defeat.

In a sense, we both won. You didn’t give me what you didn’t want to give me. And then, I also did not want to remain friends with someone that devalued me like that. So, it ends up with a draw. A painful one. But that is life.

You have just become someone that I see very very seldom and then there is just a hello and a goodbye. I looked at you the last time. You are still beautiful. But you are a stranger. Even the people that don’t care about me at all in that context talk to me more than you. Maybe you have even asked that we are not together at all, which is why we are not. Who knows?

Why the letter? If that is you reading, it is the ending. I am setting myself free from you. And by setting myself free, now you are free. Whatever reason you were reading this diary for, now you don’t have to read it. You don’t have to interest yourself in anything that I write.

In closing, I want to write something about The Arabian Nights. The king’s woman cheated on him. So he took revenge on all of the women in the country. He killed them. And this injustice was what the storyteller went against. She told a story every night to the king. And slowly, the king grew accustomed to her stories and he would not kill her. He wanted to listen to her stories. And eventually, they bore three children and lived happily ever after.

But today, you are the Queen and I am the storyteller. And after 243 days – which is eight months – what has happened between us? Absolutely nothing. I am further from you than I have ever been.

It doesn’t seem to matter that I think about you. That I think of things to talk to you about all day. That I sit down every night no matter how intense life is to talk to you. How far can you expect a man to go before you will give him a single chance? How long have I known you? Almost two years.

Anyway, everything that will be said will be said in a hello and a goodbye. Why would anything change?

I will sign with the name I call myself and not the formal name that everyone outside of my family calls me.

Tiger