Letting Go: An Open Letter


Letting go is difficult.

I wouldn’t call this an open letter to the world to show what type of person I am when it comes to breaking off contact with someone I care about. Yet, from time to time, it happens because I want it to. I remember in great detail every woman I’ve seen, been with, loved, and cared deeply for. Years may pass, but I’m powerless stop something from triggering a memory with someone. It’s a blessing and curse to not forget. To somehow be thrown back in time where feelings existed, moments were made and captured, and the world seem small. It was a time less scary, less intimidating, and something of my oyster.

Attachment is a double edge sword. Days go by and they are all you think about. Just that one person who meant the world to you becomes a fixation of the mind. Call it a lingering ghost of the seasons past or the chill that startles the body when you least suspect it — love comes and goes. Feelings come and go. And friends do too. The reasons may vary. Some become overly dependent and risk their own self independence. Others find me a bother and it’s best I removed myself from their world and the chapters within for the sake of their own well-being. I give them the benefit of the doubt, but at a certain point, I find their antics annoying and extremely bothersome. It hurts to do so, as it’s not an easy feat to just want to let someone go from your mind and consciousness.

It pains me and perhaps it pains them too. I’ve seen about five women in the year I’ve started writing daily. Some were serious. Others were not. Compatibility was mixed. Regardless, I keep a nice memory to hold and hope they do too. I am incapable for harboring and carrying hostility or negative feelings for someone no matter what transpired in the heat of the moment. I’ve had my fair share of moments, words, and actions I wish I could take back. Yet, what’s done is done and there is no going back. Life is not a VCR with a rewind button as much as I want to revisit parts of my past. Offer an apology when needed had hope they understand and am forgiving. Better yet, learn to forgive yourself for the mistake too.

Knowing me, with enough time, I’d eventually rid myself of any lingering feelings towards someone, negative or not. I can’t say that is a positive attribute to have, as I’d likely be walking right back into the lion’s den without a sword or shield. But what do I know. I find it impossible to ignore a text or call.

Welcome to my world. I hope you enjoyed your stay on my little raft at sea. I’m not floating aimless without an idea of the destination.

Later world.


daily buzz

That time I was let go from my job

In what can be one of the most jarring experiences I can recall this past year, I was without warning let go from my job as a web project manager. While this would normally bother me to no end, let me tell you how the day-to-day operations was like at REDACTED. For those skillful Internet searchers, the company I worked for is located in Los Angeles. We only recently moved there the beginning of September from a small city just by the border of South Pasadena. We cleverly advertise a “full internet marketing” agency when we in fact outsource to India for a majority of the work. Yelp reviews are a resounding 5 stars across the board, but strangely only date back to 2014 and without a negative review to be found. The lowercase e in our name lets our clients know we’re all about the Internet and not afraid to boast our rankings as “one of the top SEOs”.

I promise there’s only a hint of sarcasm in that description.

Refunds (or lack of thereof)

If you were one of the unlucky few who were magically called upon by one of our sales people and lured into the unforgiving trap we set forth on your credit card, getting you the website you wanted was far from our priority. Deadlines often ran far into the third month when we quoted customers a turnaround time of just 1-2. What if you wanted a refund, you might ask? We don’t give out refunds. Ever. Keeping you on billing was skillfully executed by our most seasoned managers who knew how to keep clients relatively happy with little to no work to show for it. If there was a billing mistake and you were commonly overcharged you would recieve additional months of service. That only begs the question: If the service is free, does that make it good? Nope.

Lackluster Communication

Take a large company with many departments who don’t regularly coordinate communication with each other and what do you end up with? A huge cluster fuck of “I didn’t know.” and “Oh did they?”. I heard that more times than was considered normal. If a client requested a change in service, I never trusted my email to magically make it to the right hands or monitors or even have it properly forwarded to the right people as protocol would dictate. Might I remind you that our “new process”—as one jolly gentle project manager put it—was an incredible fifty pages in length. As thorough and well written in formalities as the language on bounded paper was, this “new process” was more of a front for the amount of half-assed shenanigans that was regularly going on.

The People

Lastly, come my thoughts on the people working there. Not everyone who worked there was a quack. In fact, there were a select few who rightfully earned their places high up in the company. Guys in billing, and the big boss lady are the best examples that I know of who had every right to each letter of their title. However, look down a few rows and you couldn’t help but notice the high school students in social media who laughed and chuckled every time you caught them walking through the hallway. Better yet, my own manager (who I shall not name) was every bit a kid in disguise with a troubling past and more run-ins with the law than one could reasonably laugh at.

To end this on a positive note, see ya M___, M____, and V____. Those three people weren’t just my co-workers who sat beside me. I can honestly say without a doubt they were also my friends—and that is something I will truly miss about not working there. Laughs were shared, crazy and wild stories were exchanged, and just a little bit of ourselves rubbed off on one another to make a small difference.

So long, farewell, and a can of Coke.