Two Sides of the Same Coin
Dear Emily,
I don’t think you understand. I’ve told you I can’t talk to you on the phone. So please stop trying to call me. I will not answer. We always fight. I’ve also told you, I like my life just as it is. You don’t seem to get it. Some people can be happy with less. I have everything I want or need. I get to swim with turtles, for Christ’s sake! And I can afford it here. So, please stop asking me to make my life look more like yours. I don’t want that!
Love, Tori
Dear Tori,
Thanks for your letter. But, I have to say, I don’t believe you. You say you’re happy with less. But this much less? Look at your life. You’ve had to move almost five times in the last year. In the last five years, you’ve moved at least a dozen times. Maybe more like 30. You can’t dispute this. It’s indisputable.
Before you left for Hilo, you were living in a trash-filled trailer in someone’s driveway in a bad part of Richmond, where the creepy so-called landlord was prowling around your door every night. When I visited you, the front half of the trailer was filled with this person’s trash. Not even your own trash! And you say you’re happy.
You have options. I wish you understood that better. That’s all I want you to know. You are smart, smarter than me. Richard always said so. There is no reason for you to be accepting life on these terms.
I know you don’t want to hear it, but I would be doing you an injustice if I didn’t say once again that if you stopped drinking, your life would transform.
I love you.
Emily
Dear Emily,
Don’t you get sick of yourself? You’re so sanctimonious. What makes you think you know better than I do what is an acceptable life to me? You have no idea.
I live in Paradise now. Paradise! I have my own place, a studio, my cat, it’s safe. It’s fine. I like it. Please stop talking to me about drinking when it’s you who have the problem. Jesus. Every time I see you, you have a glass of wine in your hand. You’re a hypocrite.
I love you too, but please understand you’re a little hard to take.
Love, Tori
Dear Tori,
Denial is a strong force. It’s part of the disease of alcoholism. You know this better than anyone. We both do. We saw it in mom. Doesn’t it worry you that you feel you can defend a life where you just got fired from 7–11 for stealing a $1.49 taquito? Does it concern you or strike you as odd that you were once again in the hospital, for once again, a dog bite? You told me the dog bit you because it was defending its owner who you were in a fist fight with in some crash pad in who knows where. You tell me these things like they are normal.
I’m here to tell you they are not.
Your life doesn’t have to look like this. You can do better. When you decide to, I’m here for you. But, I can’t do anything for you until you take the first step. You won’t believe how fast and how much your life will change once you take that step.
Just look into an AA meeting.
Love, Emily
Dear Emily,
Fuck you. Leave me alone. You’re deaf. You’re incapable of hearing. I’m done.
Adios.
Tori
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