Letter to a Diva

I cannot offer you love for you have had so many different versions that your idea of a true one has been tarnished.

I cannot offer you intimacy because you have been un intimate so much that the experience is no longer new or meaningful but much rather a pastime hobby or chore.

Not a plus but a minus. Do you know the difference between you and us? If being asked to cater is mistaken as controlling and being faithful perceived as an extreme request then how can I be confident in your ability of compromise and understanding, love and monogamy? You don't want a man you want men collectively.

I am just another nothing to you without any promise of being anything. I set you free of all that you are in my heart, mind, thoughts, emotions and ideas. I am not your happy place but much rather your desert island. I'll never be more than your complaint department, your unofficial official.

I provided you a toy with my heart, an inside joke with friends and family. I had an opportunity to be your ground to walk on, your source of anger, your reason to be in the presence and arms of another. I offered my heart, and I only wish it was as tangible as a car or clothing and shiny jewelry because then I would know it had value in your life. I only pray that one day I will be the blueprint of how not to treat someone you love. Yours Truly, Good Man