I finally got away. I can't think at home. I feel suffocated sometimes. I hate having anyone peering over my shoulder. It's annoying and I can't concentrate. It's foggy again today. I had to take my dog into the vet to have a foxtail taken out of his nose. I just did this 6 weeks ago. $200 a pop each time he does this. I don't have this kind of money. I have to pick him up at 4pm. Meanwhile, I've gone to the gym and tried to go to the library, but they're closed because they took it upon themselves to stretch out the Labor Day holiday. So now I'm at the coffeehouse, drinking more coffee just so I have a place to write. I'm staying away from the scones today.

Letter #3

Dear Rayen,

Sorry it's been awhile since I've written. I know I haven't told you much. It's hard for me to get this out of my system even though I know it's the best thing I can do. I've kept so much bottled up and have presented myself so many different ways to so many different people. You're the only one I can trust. The only thing is I've never killed anyone. Not that I haven't wanted to. I just didn't think I could get away with it.

When I was in college I was very involved with the born-again movement. I got sucked into some freaking cult when I was a freshman and they brainwashed me well. I tried to be what they thought was a good Christian. I was under the spiritual tutelage of a group of women who were a little older than I was. I found out later that half of them were closet dykes, who, like myself, were hiding in the church, hoping, somehow, we'd change. Fucking hypocrites. I made the mistake of confessing to one of them about my struggles with my sexuality and I was immediately ostrasized. They decided it would be best if I didn't spend any alone time with the women in the church. If I made an attempt to touch anyone, even in passing or in conversation, I was "counseled." The bad part is that I was deeply in love with another woman in my church. Kelly. To this day, I think about her. I became pretty pissed off at the church, at God and everything about Christianity. God didn't change me.

Tinder

Letter #2

Dear Rayen,

Today I am angry. I had another dream about a woman I was, or still am, in love with. I have dreams about her regularly. I can't get her out of my system in spite of being in a relationship with someone else for the past four years. I'm a shit. I miss her, but I can't tell a soul. I doubt I'll ever see her again. She really hurt me, lied to me, deceived me. I should hate her and in some respects I guess I do.

Tinder

Letter #1

Dear Rayen,

My name is Tinder. You don't know me, but I have a lot on my mind. I'm told that you are the one who handles all these things. Many things I am about to tell you I am too ashamed or humiliated to discuss with anyone else on earth. I guess I should start with a formal introduction. I was born in 1963. I was not a wanted child and my mother took her anger out on me a lot. I grew to fear her. I've always known there was something different about me, but I didn't know what to call it. Later, I would find out that it's called queer. I know it's not a big deal these days, but when I was growing up, it was a heinous thing. My mother once told me that the worst thing that could happen to a parent would be to find out her child is gay. I kept my secret for a long time.

Thank you for your time. I will write again soon.

Sincerely,

Tinder