Letter to My Boyfriend’s Anxiety

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Unwelcome Anxiety,

It’s been a long time since we’ve made such an unfortunate acquaintance. Since our beginnings I believe I’ve shown cordial tolerance to your jarring interruptions, your unquenchable thirst for attention, but most of all your undying self-centeredness. I have been friendly and understanding of your long-term relationship with him, but I refuse to accommodate you any longer.

Today I say, enough.

I will not stand for your influence. I will not stand for the horribly tinted lenses through which you force him to perceive the world. The world is not a red and gray landscape festering with disease and danger. You’ve highjacked his nervous system, his thyroid, his heart, and you’ve injected yourself like faux neuropathy to stroll about; his veins your red carpet, his lugs your marionettes. You’ve invaded my boyfriend with the full force of your venom, without a choice of fight or flight, only freeze. Only Safe Mode. Only quiet. Only Hibernate. Only Danger or Nothing.

Yet, there is so much more to him other than his overactive nerves. You only offer a life of Noir and Prosopagnosia, and we will not compete in your game of polarities.
Life is full of an  inordinate amount of subtext and joy. And I will make it my mission to inspire him to merge nuances. I will stand beside him in the battle to overthrow your reign of terror.

He is not yours to embrace, your advice is not welcome, your opinion is dull and redundant. You are nothing but a liar and I will not falter until you are evicted, until your word means nothing to him. You offer nothing but libel and toxicity. I speak for him because you’ve got your claws digging around his mouth, while you pretend that your voice is his voice, your wish is his wish.

We are not in an open relationship. We have never invited you nor your depressive sister to take part of our care. So I say enough. Enough to your imaginary reasons to not go outside his room, to your imaginary reasons why he might die between the ages of 27 and 35, enough to your unintelligible whispers, your fight or flight Russian roulette, your 3 am shivers, your obsession with Web MD.
Enough.

He IS worthy. He IS healthy. He IS smart. He IS amazing. He IS kind. He IS loved
But most of all:
HE IS NOT BROKEN.

Nothing you say or do will change that fact.
This is not a playground for your existential orgies.
We’re done.
And so are you.

Let this letter serve as an official request to cease and desist any and all contact with him. This letter is to inform you that your harassing and intimidating actions against my boyfriend have become unbearable. Such behavior is completely unacceptable and will not be tolerated in any way, shape or form. Please note that he has the right to remain free from your browbeating tactics and we will take responsibility upon ourselves to protect that right.

Disdainfully,

Krystel J. Bravo

Ps.
Kindly eat shit and die.

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