Don’t know if this is legit, but check
this shit out…
TO: Marc Isles
SUBJECT: Your Emotions (Or
You know what I can’t stand about you? Nothing EVER ruffles
your feathers. Last night, when I hung the phone up on you, you sent me a text
message that said: Goodnight, Rachel,
when you very well knew the conversation was FAR from over. It’s as if you have
no understanding of argument protocol. After I hung up on you, I did not intend
for the conversation to end. And yet, because of you, I went to bed with words
You wonder why I always send email messages in response to
your text messages? Because we have the kind of problems that are too big for
standard text messaging rates. Also, our problems have well surpassed the text
messaging character limit. So, no, I won’t be texting you nor will I be responding.
Which is why your Goodnight, Rachel went unanswered and will continue to go
unanswered for forever more.
Do you know how insulting it is to tell someone your
emotions—your true, honest, and raw emotions—and for them to respond with a
laissez-faire tone? Well, I do. I write you messages that are filled with anger
and fury, passion and rage. My messages are an outpouring of my heart and a
bearing of my soul. I click send and wait for a reply and then when it arrives
I notice that you haven't used one exclamation point! There are no words placed
in bold to highlight your points. No capital letters used to indicate a voice
inflection. No italic words to emphasize your meaning. This hurts MY feelings!
I am your wife. You may not be an emotional wreck with the
other people in your life, but you owe it to your family to be an emotional
wreck with me. When you speak to me calmly and maturely and with reason, I can
only assume that you don't love me. Because if you DID love me, you'd be filled
with the same passion and anger that I feel every morning when I wake up and I
know that you're in bed in Seattle and not in our bed in San Francisco.
So, this is why I hung up on you last night, and this is why
I'm not returning any of your text messages this morning. But the kids are
coming in from art class now, so I can't talk about this any further.
TO: Rachel Isles
SUBJECT: RE: Your Emotions
I’ve never quite understood why you want me to treat you like
a piece of shit. I can only assume that since I was raised in the hood, you
expect me to cut your throat to show you I care. Rachel, you’re my wife. You’re
the mother of my only child. I will treat you in a manner that corresponds to
your titles in my life. My wife. My mate. The woman who bears my children.
Do I want to be here in Seattle without you and Janie? Of
course not. But what choice do I have? You couldn’t just leave San Fran in the
middle of the school year. And before you start with me, no I don’t blame you
for this. And yes, I wish I was waking up to you every morning. Who wouldn’t
want to wake up next to you, Rachel? But I’ve gotta work. Because as good as a
teacher that you are, we have two mortgages, one daughter, and now I have rent
to pay up here.
I’ve gotta make it happen for us, baby. I know you’re used to
a standard of living that you’ve grown accustomed to. I knew what I was getting
into when we married. But that standard of living doesn’t just happen. I need
to make it happen. I’m up here in Seattle making it happen. When I iron out the
kinks to this software, I’ll be on the first flight back to San Francisco.