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A Farewell

Dear Tissue Expanders,

Tonight is our last night together.  I'm breaking up with you.

It's been real, these last three and a half months.  Really, real.  So real that you have been on my mind for every single waking moment, as well as countless non-waking ones.  Although our time has drawn to a close and you will be carelessly discarded in the morning for a pair of more demure implants, I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you how I feel:  it's not me, it's you.

I thought I knew what I was getting into, choosing to go the tissue-expanders-to-implants route.  I heard that there was pain and discomfort with each subsequent fill, but I had no idea that you would become such a constant, pervasive force.  You have dominated most of my thoracic sensory nerve activity since Valentine's day.  You are all I feel.  Even now, after all this time, you're still the dominant presence.  I still feel like I'm wrapped tightly, and I give you most of that credit.  You have robbed me of hugs and sleep, two of the things I have needed the most over this span of time, and that has really kind of pissed me off.

I signed a document recently, giving my legal permission for the surgical facility to dispose of you in a "proper manner," but I have lustily dreamed of having an "Office Space" or "Goodfellas" moment with you.

Well, I have tried to keep this letter relatively civil, but I have run out of things to say.  I wish you the very best, but only until around 7:30 tomorrow morning.  After that, you're on your own.

XO,
Whit

Comments

  1. Love it!!!! So happy to hear that the next time I run into you I can give you a big ole hug!

    ReplyDelete
  2. What happened to a bon fire farewell??? So glad you are down to the final phase. Love you, girl

    ReplyDelete

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