An Open Letter to My Career

What happened between us?

I'm sorry. That's really no way to begin a letter. It's rude, and that is not what I am aiming for. My apologies.

Let's try this again, shall we?

Hi!
Long time no see!
How are you?
Really, tell me how you are. I genuinely want to know. Tell me stories, of your adventures during my absence!

I've been okay. Actually, if we're being honest (and believe me, the time has come for that) I've been pretty darn good of late. I earn money! I cook! My hair's growing out! Maybe it was the alarmingly long ponytail following me around that prompted me to follow up on you, my friend. That, and the fact that I ponder how close we used to be with an ever-increasing frequency. I remember when we were an inseparable, unstoppable duo; two badass hardass motherfuckers not to be trifled with. I know you remember too, those good old days. Glory days, if you will. I felt completely comfortable with you by my side, with your companionship and the fire in my belly that came with your presence.

Now...now I just feel awkward as hell when I'm around you man! Now I listen to a little too much Bruce Springsteen when I'm reminded of what we used to do and where we used to go. It's as disheartening as you can imagine, don't doubt that for a second. I shouldn't feel like that around you! Oh boy oh boy, is it ever sucky. Where once we'd talk endlessly about everything now I stare at my feet and fail to think of anything to say. I rack my brains for a conversation topic, an observation, a question, and I come up with donuts, a mighty zero. It pains me to be mute around you. Then again, it's not as if you bother to contribute to conversation, so you know. Cram it. Do you enjoy watching me flounder and stutter through small talk with you? Cram it twice.

I take that back. I'm sorry. I'm just nervous is all.

The fact of the matter is this: I let you down. My bad. That sounds flippant, but it's true. It's truly my bad. So, there you go. My bad.

I stopped calling you, I flaked out at every imaginable moment, I was forever defensive or hungover or impatient or broke and then I just became balls-out rude. For all of these things I could make up excuses, I could give long-winded reasons of why I morphed into a shitty pal and lacklustre partner-in-crime but I think the time for excuses came and went a long time ago. We stopped talking, and that's that. I actually stopped talking to everyone, but that's a crappy excuse at best. I wish my reason was something like,
"I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T CALL. I WAS ABDUCTED BY SOMALI PIRATES"
"I FELL DOWN A WELL. IT WAS DARK."
"BOTH OF MY HANDS WERE CUT OFF AND IT'S REALLY HARD TO USE A PHONE AND COMPUTER"
"DUDE! I WOULD HAVE CALLED BUT I WAS DEAD! SERIOUSLY, I'M A ZOMBIE NOW!"

But alas, this is not the case. "I didn't speak to anyone for a while" is the best I can do. At least you know it wasn't personal, right?

So now you know I'm sorry.

Let's get a coffee. Or, I could make you a coffee. I make lots of coffees at work nowadays. It's one of my many duties. I make many, many coffees. Seriously though, let's breakfast or lunch or brunch or dunch. It takes me less time to get to places nowadays, and I'm much better at getting out of bed. Hey! I know! We could go shopping! We could get makeovers! Dude, let's buy new outfits! My theme will cease to be Geeky Slacker and you can quit with the whole Stand-offish Ice Queen vibe.

I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.

Seriously though... I know how much fun you are when you want to be, but you MUST realise how hard it can be to get through to you. Or to muster the courage to speak to you. You've gotta be more approachable! I say that in the nicest way possible, of course. I know I have a myriad of faults, but the least you could do is smile once in a while. Try not to let your default look be "ANGRYFACE". And don't say that it's because of me that you've got the angryface. I just apologised, okay? And you're far from perfect. In fact, sometimes you're downright pedantic and boring. In fact, I barely thought about you the entire time I was overseas. Take that. I loved being on the other side of the world from everyone, and that includes you buddy boy. In FACT, I'll level with you. I thought I could completely leave you behind, forget altogether that we'd ever been so intensely linked. I thought - and I kind of still do think - that I could run away into the happy wilderness and never ever see you again.

SORRY. Sorry sorry sorry. Back on track.

I had some damn high hopes for our relationship, duder. I still do. I think we can rebuild this. I know I was AWOL for rather a long time, but believe me when I say that I learned a whole lot after a whole lot of soul-searching and journeying. It was fucking epic, is what it was. It was like a Game of Thrones episode had a baby with a non-shit Eat Pray Love but with less Julia Roberts and more booze and expletives and without Javier Bardem. Actually, get rid of Eat Pray Love, that's gross. It was like an episode of Game of Thrones, but with less in the way of knights and more in the way of Spanish-speaking folk.

Seriously though, I realised that I do want you in my life. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. I'm sorry it took me so long to happen upon that nugget of knowledge, dude. Even though part of me says I shouldn't bother, I do know now that I want you around. I want to take on the world again, with you. I want to be an unstoppable duo, two badass motherfuckers not to be trifled with! I may tire of your endless nagging and your ambition, and you may grow weary of my apathy and short attention span, but I think we can make this work. Shit YEAH, we can make it work.

So. What do you say? Eh? Eh? Friends? Tentative pals? Come on, gimme a break here. Throw me a high-flying bone! We can do it! I know we can! We'll step back into the world and take it by the horns and pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and take it one game at a time and give it a hundred and ten percent while taking each week as it comes!

See you soon I hope.
Call me! Or I'll call you. Tell you what, I'll give you tomorrow to think about it, then I'm calling. I'm going to call the shit out of you.

Yours,

Reb