Dear Friend,

The season two finale of Doctor Who really hit home. Considering how much I view my life through the paradigms of TV shows, it was scary to see a show that mirrored my life so accurately. Obviously I haven't fought aliens or time-travelled, although one time I had a few hits of weed and it felt like I had the ability to freeze time. But the scene where Rose was brought kicking and screaming into a different universe, separated by The Doctor by being literally worlds apart, resonated with me. 

You know what it felt like, my friend? Before, it felt like anytime something went wrong in any relationship I could go home and say to myself, at least I know someone would still want me. There is still one more person left who wouldn't have treated me like a disposable toy. But now, now it feels like the last person that I could count on for that piece of comfort is gone. I can't because he's someone else's now, he's someone else's but no one has stepped up to claim me from the playpen of lost kids waiting for their ride home. 

The human mind is really too smart for its own good, isn't it? Because try as you might to make yourself think that your world and your life doesn't revolve around some stupid boy, some bitch of a girl, some societally reinforced image of what a relationship should be, at the end of the day it's still there. It resurfaces after a day spent trying to drown it in the clutter of busywork you surround yourself with. You can tell yourself that your life is more than who you're fucking but when the sun goes down it all boils down to one fundamental fear. No, your mind won't stand to be deceived by your half-ditch efforts. Your mind knows. It knows you hate this and you hate yourself for hating this. 

But the sun is a salvation. Because our misery and worries and born of doubt and darkness but it all fades into insignificance in the luminance of sunshine. We just have to be patient enough to see the sun again. 

With love,

Your friend