Dear Mr. Glines:


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Dear Mr. Glines:

This is to inform you that I will no longer be listening to your constant diatribe of needy monologue, which means I think I will be looking for an owner that does not subject me to such negative lows and such crazy highs all the time.  I’m sorry, but it’s for the best.  The best for me, that is.  I just can’t listen to you any more.  I’m sure you understand and if not, what do I care, I’m an imaginary cat.  Later.

(Formerly) Your Imaginary Cat Muffin

Ah, well.  It’s come to this.  My imaginary pets are deserting me.  They’ve finally tired of listening to me, eh?  Well, good riddance.  I’ve got more important things to worry about these days, like finding a job in the real world.  And making a success of being better to myself, too.  The hell with Muffin.  I can live without her.  But I can’t live without loving myself.  Oh, no, more mail?

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Dear Mr. Glines:

This is to remind you that while I am away on vacation you will be without the ability to think rationally.  We don’t want you going off the deep end after the last incident we’re still paying for, and I think you’d agree with our stance on the matter.

Don’t forget that we’ll be back as soon as you calm down or as soon as we feel like leaving our beach for the cursed environs you call a brain.  The pina coladas are really good here!  In fact, we may never be back.  Too nice here.

See you soon (yeah, right) and remember, don’t make any rash decisions (ha, ha!).

Love and kisses,

Your Sanity

Oh, No!  First my imaginary cat, now my sanity?  Listen, Mr. Big Shot Sanity, I am perfectly capable of making enlightened and important decisions.  Now, what were we talking about?  Where’s the light switch?  I must be going crazy, it was right here a minute ago . . . 

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Dear Mr. Glines:

I have run away to the North Pole.  Don’t come after me.  Santa is still pretty mad at you for your performance at Christmas dinner with your family.  They hate you, I hate you, even the stupid elves here hate you.  Don’t come looking for me because my very huge and hungry cousins that live on the ice floe next door will eat you and anyone with you.  You’ve been warned.

And by the way, all that love?  I faked it.  And I hate your drool.  You disgust me.

Teddy

NOOO! Not Teddy!  But I love you!  I need you!  You’re my Teddy!  Oh, lord, what am I going to do?  Why do these things happen to ME?  First my imagination, then my sanity, now the Teddy that I love?  I don’t want to go on living if this is what it means to grow up!  I want everything to be back the way it was!  How do I get a wish to bring it all back?  How do I stop what’s happening???

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Dear Mr. Glines:

By now, you’re unhappy enough for me to tell you the truth.

There’s no such thing as being happy in the stupid romantic sense you prefer.  In fact, stupid romanticism is one of the most dangerous things you can flirt with (forgive the pun).

There’s something about growing up that apparently you missed.  Maybe you weren’t in class or maybe you weren’t paying attention but what you missed was pretty important.

Growing up means dealing with loss and not only that, dealing with loss with a little grace.

I know you don’t like that very much.  After all, I am you, just a better you, a more realistic you.  And if you’re going to be as good as me you’ve got to work a little harder.

Teddy never cared.  Muffin used you.  Your sanity has always been in question.  But if you think about it, that’s all right.  Teddy wasn’t meant to be your soul mate.  Muffin didn’t even exist, guy, she’s imaginary, and your imagination certainly got the better of you on countless occasions.

But your sanity, well, that’s a bit of a problem.  You see, sanity is something everyone has trouble with sometimes and more often than not think it will never come back.

They think it’s gone for good.  But sanity isn’t like your teddy bear or kitty.  Sanity is something you have to work toward.  Once in a while your sanity takes a vacation.

Do me (that is, yourself) a favor and try for some patience with yourself.  Love, especially romantic love, is at times troubling and at times glorious.  Imagination can be fantastic, brilliant, warm and cuddly or cruel, mean and horrible.  But sanity is something you can’t let go.

Write sanity a postcard and tell it you’re all right.  After all, sanity’s not all that far away.  Don’t go making any rash decisions, do the right things for yourself and you’ll find that sanity’s been there all along.  Just ask anyone else that thinks they’ve lost their sanity from time to time and you’ll find they’ve been in the very self-same situation.  Sanity, with a little work, always comes back.

However, Teddy’s right.  You drool when you sleep and it’s disgusting.  Just sayin’.

Your Friend, Your Self

P.S.: Don’t forget to feed your imagination.

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