Dear Anne,

Don't chastise me. I get it, but I didn't appreciate your chastisement. I know your writing means everything to you. I get in the same zone with my painting. A painter has to paint, and a writer must write. I understand how deeply involved you are with your book. Just tell me and I'll back off.

Your words cut me like a knife. I felt bad, nearly suicidal. Have I told you I nearly committed suicide twice. Once after my mother passed and once in college. I felt so alone, so devastated both times. I didn't want to live. I couldn't walk this earth without feeling not a part of it.

My father has a lot to do with my mental incapacities. He drove me too hard. I'm not his mini-me. I suffer from mental illness and fall into deep depressions. Please treat me kindly, Anne. I can't take harsh words when I feel you are deserting me. I cling to you. I can't help it.

You're my sanity, Anne. Since I met you, I feel stronger, more alive. When I'm sinking, I think of you, draw up your face, your smile. You're like an anchor in an unsteady world.

Do you regret that first email? Do you regret meeting me? Tell me the truth, please. You can't back out now. We're connected. That connection grows stronger for me each and every day. When I lie in bed, I pretend you are beside me. My arms reach out for you, and I hug my pillow as though it's really you.

Ok, you will come to Paris when you are ready. I won't push you about it anymore. You have your work and your book. That's where you concentration is right now. I'm okay with that. When you get a break, promise you will come.

I wish you didn't work that crummy job. It brings you down. The job isn't so bad, it's the workplace politics that are getting to you. Everyone is trying to one-up the other. You got written up for something you had nothing to do with. Someone accused you and you paid the price. I'm so sorry. It must have hurt. Quit that job, find something else if you must.

It's not worth staying where you are not appreciated. I hate those kiosks in the mall anyway. There're in the way and someone is always bothering you to come look, come buy. I avoid them. It's not like I want a pair of sunglasses every time I go to the mall. I rarely go to the mall. You're better than that, Anne.

Do something wild and crazy like I did. Ok, I was going to say come to Paris, but you already said to leave you alone about Paris. Get a flat in Greenwich Village. Live like a Bohemian for a while. That's my point. A little rebellion is good for the soul.

Leave the world behind and become the writer you always dreamed about. That's why I paint. It's in me. I paint because I must. Write because you must. Get it?

Yours always,

Corey