Maybe it is due to my father’s fascination with this lady, but I’ve always been intrigued by her. I’m curious, and yet not enough for me to try to set up a meeting to meet her one on one. I respect her, and enjoy this distance between us. I know she’s around and that’s plenty for me.
The past few weeks, I know she’s been lurking. I’m aware of her presence, I can almost feel her. True, we do talk about her a lot. What other choice do we have, really? We know she’s here, waiting like a vampire almost, to be invited in our lives. We’ve been trying to keep her at bay, but we all know that eventually, no matter how much we resist, we will have to let her in. It doesn’t mean that we have to welcome her, but in a way I know we will be relieved to see her. All apprehension and concerns will be dealt with, once we know she’s in.
Isn’t it strange, how, no matter how much we try to ignore her, or move away from her, she always manages to find us? We really can’t hide from her. For that alone she deserves to be treated with the utmost respect.
For what it’s worth, I’m going to address her directly:
Dear Mrs. D.,
You are one popular lady. Everyone I know has met you at some point in time. I wish I could say that people like you, but it would be a lie. You are not liked. You are feared, really. I wish we could see your good sides, but at times it feels like you don’t really have that many. You are known for your undiscriminating manners and for your lack of pity. Some say you’re cold and heartless. I would tend to agree with them. I do know you serve a great purpose, but at times I hate to think what lesson you have in store for me. Even if I do know that you are part of our lives, it doesn’t make it easier for any of us to accept your presence. Despite my best effort to befriend you, I’m realising that it is useless, since you darn well do as you please. You are one cold bitch, there’s no doubt about that! I wish there was a way to get rid of you, but there isn’t. You are here to stay. I know that. It doesn’t make your upcoming visit any easier. I know I don’t want to see you again. You’ve hurt me in the past, and even if I know that I’ll be seeing more and more of you, it doesn’t make it feel right or better in any way, quite the contrary. I hate knowing you’re waiting around the corner. I wish I could believe that things will be better after your visit, but they rarely are. Not at first anyway. It sucks. It really does and I sure hope this visit will be your last one for a long while, at least.
Sincerely wishing you’d stop lurking,
*Mrs. D. is Lady Death