Why did you do this to me? Did you know that one of my big fears was that I wouldn’t see you again until I was diagnosed terminally ill, and that you would be the one to bring in the suicide machine? And now, I can’t get the image out of my mind – you, just standing there staring at me, at a hospice! It’s bad enough I’m still trying to process seeing you with a new baby and yet another man. I still see you at the chowder house on the coast, driving in the desert, and out of the corner of my eye in so many places. Add to that, I’ve even confused others for you…

And did you know that you’re not the only one named Leticia? Yes, I get messages and it’s never clear from who, partly because you’re not the only source – but when I write a piece expressing my desires, apparently it affects about half a dozen women in this area plus a few who do not share your name. To complicate matters further, I’ve come to the conclusion that two of the Leticias have daughters named Alina, two have brothers named Mike, and at least two have careers in mental health or law enforcement. It’s not clear who’s who, however, because nobody talks to me. Nevermind the fact that I’ve gone to such extremes to make myself available.

I started this draft a couple of days ago but I’ve just decided to go ahead and publish it unfinished. I keep getting messages about pregnancy – and you surely know our history in Humboldt. I don’t even know why you (and many others) get these blog posts because they’re not on my site, so my activities are clearly tracked. And all I want is for you to come talk to me, not to your phone near me, not to other people about me, not conspiring with my landlord or my mother – just come talk to me. I’m sick of all the social engineering of my life, tired of the all the fear mongering and shaming, and I’m exhausted. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, so you turned me into a mental health study? I didn’t do anything to deserve this. All I expected was a cup of coffee and a conversation. My dream was to walk with you and talk with you, not to be stalked by you. Now you owe me some closure. Please. Don’t keep treating me this way for yet another holiday season…