Dear Ambition,
Hey! Long time, no see, girlfrieeend! So uh… where have you been? We used to be best friends. You pushed me around everywhere, but that made life easy. You helped me make decisions. You made me feel good about myself. You gave me goals. Goals I could go toward and succeed. Together we plowed down school. I mean, I hardly had to study. You and my Brain were the real Dynamic Duo.
Please tell me where I went wrong. Was it something I said? Was it something I did? Did you feel like you put all the work into our relationship? Please, tell me! I know it’s me, not you who did wrong.
It has been the darkest gray-chartreuse year since I’ve seen you face to face.
Please come back.
I had been keeping alive the small glimmers of Idea that I got when I was so sure I saw you in the corner of my eye; the back of my head; the edge of my heart. One by one, I thought and prayed and rolled over each one. I researched. I asked questions. I Googled. I read. I made the decision to press patiently onward. One by one, the doors were each slammed. Or, closed so agonizingly slow that they creaked for months.
Was that not you I saw?
My Brain is lonely and tired without you. It sits there and churns, but without purpose. It only turns out incomplete thoughts, sadness, sarcasm, and little bit of funny. And sometimes worry, I guess not as much as one might think it would. And that black hole, which is rectangular shaped, standing vertically and unmistakably by me.
Not to get too sappy, but you were like my cape. No one messes with a cape. Capes are badass and unstoppable. They help you fly, they keep you warm, you can even make a tent out of one. Plus, they keep pieces of hair from going down your shirt when you get your hair cut. Sometimes they even have neat “can’t touch this-esque” logos on them. Now I just feel like something is around my neck, but it’s giving me a rash and it feels heavy. Something shredded my cape, somewhere. I can’t fly. Is that when you left?
Am I in between capes? You know color means a lot more to me than most people. Did you think I was done with you? I talked to you all the time. I consulted you on everything! Maybe I needed a different shaped one? That’s cool. Those Ideas I thought you gave me were good. Will my Ambition 2.0 be ready soon? I want to be flying, not flailing. No one likes a flailer. If I jump without you, I’ll just fall… again. But this small plateau on which I sit has been steadily eroding, and before too much longer I will have to jump to avoid caving in with the last bit of it that was left standing.
I do not thrive at ground level, and this desert is making me sick. Maybe what I thought I saw was a mirage, and not you. Every classified ad, every school or program – nothing gets me Ambitioned anymore. Ever.
I miss you. I need you. Please come back, Ambition.
Sincerely,
Unsubtlety
