A Letter To Isis

Dear Isis,

Nice to hear from you again on such short notice; did you think you were so very clever by having one of your snotty little friends call me up and pretend to be your secretary and have them ask me to call you back? It isn’t enough that you pulled my chain for months telling me you weren’t sure whether or not you were going to New York City and then…Pop! There you are? Do you actually expect me to be happy or something?

And then you get stupid by handing the phone over to one of your fat-pig friends who you know I absolutely disdain! What the fuck were you thinking, anyway? The mere fact that you’re in New York City bothers me; you knew how much I wanted to go there, but I couldn’t due to the fact I had a couple of wisdom teeth pulled in late August and then just this week my car died on me and I had to take care of that and well, let’s just say you made a mistake by deciding to go there without coordinating with me first!

Personally, you don’t have to consult with me on anything, it’s your choice to do whatever you so please and what gets me is the way you strung me along the entire time, just as you strung me along five years ago when we first got to know each other in that mishegas Jewish Internet chat-room we used to frequent.

Whenever I’ve asked you to come to Chicago for a visit, you told me you couldn’t afford it, but yet you can always go to New York City, can’t you? I suppose if one of your rich, wealthy friends helps you out, well, by golly, I guess you will bite the hand that feeds you over and over again, even if you don’t like the circumstances.

Let’s face it Isis, we’re no longer the same two people when we first met; you made me a promise that you’d get divorced when I first met you. My friends told me not to believe you, but of course I did and now, well, here it is five years later and you still haven’t gotten a divorce from that abusive Israeli husband of yours. I waited for you to do what you claimed you needed to do and Bang! You lied! Flat-out lied to me.

Does it feel good that you lied to me? Oh sure, you claimed you had other factors get in the way like mental exhaustion and your sister’s health and other sorry situations, some of which you blamed me for, but how could you have done so, when I wasn’t even there to begin with? Is it easier for you to make a million excuses as to why or why not you can’t or cannot do something and then use me as scapegoat when you can’t pinpoint the blame on yourself?

So tell me, Isis, how the fuck do you expect me to drop everything for you when you’ve done nothing for me in the last three years? I waited for you to finish the job as it were, but of course you didn’t and in over the last year, I’ve begun to turn my life around for the better, started dating and enjoying the pleasures life has to offer and then suddenly, Poof! There you are again, trying to get involved with me just as I’m trying to bury my past with you/our relationship for whatever it was or whatever you’d care to revise it to be.

I don’t care what your friends think either; your friends weren’t there in the rough times nor did they save your sorry life when you tried to kill yourself and you had no one else to turn to. Remember that? Remember when you said to me, “Cast your mind back, remember all the things I did, etc, etc, blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah.” You’re a sorry excuse of a person. So go on, enjoy New York City with your little friends, they’ll keep you company, keep you in the place you need to be and then when you go back home to jolly old England, they’ll laugh and snort and giggle and backbite you to no end.

Oh yeah and forget what I said about you in this space a few weeks ago, it means nothing to me now.

You get what you deserve.

The Mishegas Master