I've been having trouble with a young lady whose been my writing partner for a while now. My therapist encouraged to write a letter, without posting it if I didn't want to. I wrote it this morning without posting it, but writing it didn't make me feel better. Instead, I relived the whoel thing, got angry, then got sad and very depressed and the medication couldn't stop it. I felt so down that I knew I wasn't going to do anything productive today. Here's the letter I wrote. I must warn you that it get's mean. Dear Lauren, I’m pained that I have to write this, but the events of the past year have left me no other option: I think it is best that you and I do not work together anymore. In fact, I think its best to consider ourselves no longer friends. You have hurt me deeply. Over the past couple of years you have shown me almost no attention whatsoever. Your excuses have all been the same, I’m getting divorced, I’m out of town, I’m working, I’m rehearsing a play, I’m taking a class, I’m not feeling well, someone else is in the hospital, I’m going through a crisis, I’m too busy, don’t bother me. You really hit the message home last December when I called you just to get some info on the show you were doing because I wanted to see it. You answered the phone with a terse, attitude-filled “What is it, Craig”, like I had just spoken to you three minutes before when in reality we hadn’t spoken for a couple of months. I don’t care what it was you were in the middle of. I’m through with being understanding. What I do understand is that you came at me with attitude for no reason after not hearing from me in months. Do you treat everyone who calls you that way, or am I only schmuck in your life who’ll take that from you? I knew you wouldn’t call me the following week like you send you would. Christmas week, no job, can’t afford to see my family, didn’t have any set plans for Christmas, you don’t give a shit. I could have hung myself on Christmas day and you still wouldn’t have found out for months, like you’d even care. After a couple a months, I decided to let bygones be bygones, so I decided to send you a sketch idea that I thought you’d like. No response, not even an acknowledgement that you got it. Then I wrote a welcome back on your facebook page when you got back into town. Again, no acknowledgement, not even a quick “Hello, how are you”. But then I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? After all, after the last time we saw each other you asked to see my newest sketches. I sent them to you and never got an acknowledgement, let alone any hint if you actually read them. It’s just par for the course with you. How many times over the past few years have you bailed on me on projects that you initiated? First it would be, “Craig, let’s do a show!” Then I’d start writing and sending you stuff, we’d have a meeting, maybe two, and then you disappear. Can’t get you on the phone. Nothing! And the time you tried to bail on me during the yakk-yakk sessions. I had to threaten you by saying we weren’t going to work together anymore before you came around. And then came the Folktards shoot: never heard anything from that, did I? One of the reasons that I had so much trouble with Lex in the last year of our friendship was because he kept telling me that you were a flake and that I should dump you. And I stuck up for you! I hate to admit it, but the little prick was right about you, and I had to give up my best friend in the hope that you would at least try to stay in touch with me, even with all of your other commitments. I don’t care what your commitments or your problems are anymore. I’m tired of being understanding. I told you I would be patient as long as you kept in touch, told me what was going on in your life and that you had some commitment to me. You obviously didn’t mean it. I don’t care what your problems and commitments are anymore. I don’t care! I’ve had enough of being put off and ignored. You know, unlike you, I’m not good-looking and sexy so all that I’ve got to give is my writing. That’s all that I’ve got. It’s important to me. Probably the most important thing in my life. And when you don’t read the stuff that I’ve written for you, the material that I’ve taken the time to write for you so that you can be funny and charming and hopefully advance our careers to where we want to be, when you don’t even take the time to acknowledge that you got it, IT HURTS ME! DEEPLY! And my feelings are just as important as your’s. You’ll probably say something like, “Well, I was working and out of town and busy and my great uncle was in the hospital and I don’t need this right now!” Well, fuck you! I don’t care anymore about your problems. In two months, I’m going to be 40, older than John Lennon ever got, and I’ve wasted my 30’s waiting for you, time that I’m never going to get back. In the past year, I’ve thought about finding a new partner, but something inside of me was still attached to you and I felt like I would be betraying our partnership if I worked with someone else. Of course, I could’ve just emailed you to tell you that I wanted to work with someone else while you were busy and then we could work together again when you were ready, but since I never receive any reply from you, there would be no point, would there? I could call you, but I might get an earful of attitude like the last time. I’m tired of you treating me like an appendage in your life, like some loser that you just can’t quite seem to shake or a script machine that you feed ideas into and – presto - a script automatically pops out. I’M NOT A LOSER, YOU POCKET-SIZE ****! I’m sick and tired of your games and I’ve had enough! This is it. If you call me, I’ll hang up. If you write me, I’ll tear it in half. If you email me, I’ll delete unread. If you ever perform any of my material again, I’ll kill you. Don’t contact me again.