Dear Past,
This is it.
The last one. The final “Dear John” letter after 32 years of rewrites, edits, and accidental sequel relationships. Consider this the director’s cut — complete with a satisfying ending where I actually win.
The Farewell Tour
We’ve danced this dance far too long, Past. But I’m hanging up my emotional tap shoes.
Goodbye to physical abuse — I am not your punching bag, your target, or your outlet for rage.
Goodbye to financial abuse — I am not your ATM, your debt sponge, or your “it’s-just-a-loan” victim.
Goodbye to head games — I’m not playing anymore, and the scoreboard has been permanently switched off.
You thrived on chaos. I thrive on peace.
We were never compatible.
The Embarkment
I am boarding the ship called “New Life” — first-class ticket, window seat, champagne in hand.
The luggage I’m taking is light: just my self-worth, joy, curiosity, and the delicious knowledge that my best days are ahead.
No baggage fees, because all the heavy stuff — you — has been left on the dock.
Meet My Replacement
He’s good-looking, smart, interesting, and stimulating in all the right ways.
We share food tastes, backgrounds, values, and the ability to laugh until we can’t breathe.
He doesn’t need “fixing” or “helping” — he arrived pre-assembled, with all emotional screws tightened.
The Closing Scene
Dear Past, if you’re looking for me, you won’t find me.
I’ve blocked your number, burned your address, and filed your name under “Historical Errors.”
You had your time, and you squandered it.
I am done being the supporting act in my own story.
This is my last goodbye.
No reunion tours. No encore.
I am free.
Sincerely (and finally),
The Upgraded Me
