In Love with Love

Dear Ricky,

I don’t expect you to ever read this letter, or if you did, to give a damn about what I have to say. Your previous actions have shown that you have no remorse for anything you’ve done.

I want to forgive you, so I can move on with my life and act as if you never existed. Hopefully, in due time, it won’t have to be an act; I’ll be able to go on and not have one memory that includes you in it. I am grateful to recognize and admit that the love I believed you had for me was nothing more than a steaming pile of bullshit derived from your deviously overactive imagination.

You know nothing about love because you have no heart; just a hollow space where a heart should be. You have no soul; you’re like a mindless zombie, wildly wandering around raising hell because you don’t know what else to do. You don’t recognize anyone else’s love for you because all you ever want to do is use people, and to make matters worse, you honestly believe that everyone you meet thinks the same way you do … which is just not true!

For example, I am nothing like you. I’m not a cheater. I’m not a liar. I’m not manipulative, and I’m not careless like you are. I can’t even fathom this selfish concept you live by of harming people for sport. How can you hurt someone who did nothing but love you? It hurts my heart to the point that I feel sorry for you.

I’m sorry you’re not mature enough to be responsible for someone else’s heart or embrace love into your own, and I wish I knew that before you put me through a year of meaningless torture that has crippled me to the point of thinking that every other man I come across is just as evil as your heartless ass is!

I hate what you’ve done to me. As a matter of fact, there are many days I simply hate you, but you’re only human, bound to make mistakes until you see the error of your ways and call on God to help you make a change.

I hope you get yourself together someday. I mean, don’t you ever think about what you want to be remembered for, the legacy you’ll leave behind for your kids? Do you care that they will carry the weight of your burdens even if you choose to walk away? And what about the hearts you’ve broken, the ones you’ve claimed and used until they no longer beat? What about me?

I will always love you because the love I had for you was genuine, and that’s something I have to deal with. But you, you will have to live with looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, wondering when karma is going to visit. And when she shows up, she’s going to give your ass one HELL of a wake-up call. Care enough about yourself to do better.

With love,

Honey

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Valentine’s Day in Los Angeles was a lively sight. Cupid rained hearts and flowers as far as the eye could see, and even though my adorably enthusiastic secretary, Janet, had sweet candy hearts in every corner of my office, love was still the furthest thing from my mind.

It had been less than six months since I’d used a chunk of my book royalties to turn a small vacant home into my own private practice, and I was nothing less than a restless ball of nerves. As an emotional health and relationship counselor/author, the balancing act of writing a new book and holding one-on-one sessions with local clientele was beginning to take its toll, but I didn’t want to slow down like I probably needed to; I wanted to be successful. My career was my lifeline.

As a favor to my best friend, Tia, I added her legal secretary to my Friday 4 pm slot to help ease the tension between her and her husband that was negatively affecting her work. Had I known their infinite bickering would fill my brain with splinters of irritation, I might have reconsidered that offer.

“Dr. Love. Dr. Love? Are you listenin’ to me?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t even worry about it, doc,” her husband, Kenneth, laughed. “When Cynthia starts running off at the mouth, I tune out, too.”

“See? This is why we have so many problems! You never listen to me! And then, you have the nerve to run off with some preschooler who’s as young as Dr. Love! No offense.”

I smirked, unamused. Being in my late twenties either made my elder clients question my professional abilities or become uncomfortable when referencing my age. “None taken.”

“Nobody wants to hear you complaining all the time! Doc, I come home from busting my ass at work ...”

“Oh, you were busting ass, but it wasn’t for work.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Hey, we’re not gonna be able to address the problem in your marriage if you two don’t calm down.”

“The problem? Here’s the problem: he doesn’t know how to be in a marriage. Making a fool outta me, bringing his whores to the office after he leaves my house.”

“Your house? I pay the bills. Your little secretary money don’t do nothin', but buy the groceries.”

“It ain’t cheap to feed you! Do you make the meals at home?”

“Cynthia, you don’t even make the meals at home! We eat so much fast food, I feel like a French fry.”

“Uh, hello?” I said, raising my hand. “We’re deviating from the purpose of this conversation. How about we start with this: when did the cheating occur?”

“Last year.”

“Last … It’s been a year?” I repeated. “Okay, wait a minute. If Kenneth cheated on you last year, why are you just now bringing up divorce?”

“He said it was a mistake, and it was over!”

“I told you I wasn’t seeing her anymore!”

“You see her every day; She still works for you!”

“And how does that make you feel, Cynthia?”

“Angry! I am your wife! If I tell you I’m not comfortable with you keeping your mistress as an employee, then the bitch should be fired without question!”

“Why can’t you just take my word that there’s nothin’ goin’ on?”

“Because I don’t trust you! How can I trust you?”

“You can’t,” I answered abruptly. They were stunned to silence. “Look, if you really want to make progress in your relationship, you have to respect each other’s needs, or your relationship is over. It’s just that simple. Our time is up. Let me escort you out.”