Letter 002
The Subscription I Canceled
A nickname. Names have been changed.
I got a new phone. A new number. I want some peace.
I don’t need your bullshit. I don’t need your threats. I don’t want to keep having this conversation in different forms for the rest of my life.
Taylor Swift has “closure.” I have a bunch of computers and a subscription I’m trying to cancel that apparently thinks it can keep billing me emotionally.
So let me be clear. I want you to leave me alone.
A new number isn’t a puzzle for you to solve. It means I want space. Please respect that instead of finding another way to reach me.
Whatever you still want to say, I don’t want to receive it. I don’t need one more conversation to explain why I don’t want another conversation.
I’m tired. I have things I want to build and a life I want to enjoy. I want to pick up my phone without wondering what I’m going to have to deal with.
That’s what peace looks like to me right now. Something that small. Something I should be able to have.
Addendum
About the Marriage
And yes, I married you.
That matters.
I didn’t casually choose you. I didn’t walk into marriage expecting an exit. I said vows I meant, and for a long time, I thought honoring those vows meant continuing to answer the phone, continuing to explain myself, continuing to forgive, continuing to leave the door cracked open.
I confused commitment with access.
They are not the same thing.
Being my husband did not give you permanent access to me.
Being my ex-husband certainly doesn’t.
Marriage meant I chose you. Divorce meant I stopped choosing a life that cost me my peace.
And changing my number wasn’t petty. It wasn’t punishment. It wasn’t some dramatic attempt to make you notice my absence.
I changed it because I wanted quiet.
Real quiet.
The kind where my phone doesn’t make my stomach drop. The kind where I don’t have to wonder what version of you is on the other end. The kind where I can finally exist without being reachable to someone I no longer want reaching me.
I don’t regret taking marriage seriously.
That’s exactly why I take its ending seriously, too.
We had a marriage.
It ended.
You don’t get lifetime access just because once upon a time, I promised you forever.
The subscription is canceled.
There will be no renewal.