A letter to Caissa, my demanding mistress.

Dear Caissa,

Yes, I’ve gotten your emails, texts, voicemails and even your FB friend invite. Linked-in too? Really? I know, I’ve been distant the past few months but I just needed some “space”. Our relationship was just getting out of hand. I had other demands and other areas of myself I needed to explore.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but your intuition is probably correct. I have been tangled with another mistress called Kali ( goddess of math). She’s logical like you, not as spirited as you. It started out casual. I thought I was going to be able to manage both of you but then she just dominated me and locked me in her dungeon insisting I sing of her praises to a bunch of kids who didn’t know what was coming. Oddly enough, or perhaps a case of Stockholm Syndrome, I found her quite principled an

d actually liked our conversations. She respects me and is letting loose of her chains ( as the semester is ending).

So here’s the thing, I’ve come to realize I don’t need you to complete me. I do miss our conversations and your enchanting ways you dance on 64 squares. But I refuse to fall for your teasing and humiliation when I fall short. I can do without the demeaning annoying cackle as you throw your head back in satisfaction of destroying another dream.

Don’t get me wrong, we had some good times. I will always remember Philly, the Pillsbury Memorial and that special Tuesday night when I “bagged” the master. I’ve just had to come to terms with a few things. For instance, my rating doesn’t make me. I actually enjoy the struggle and would rather look for the lesson than just the mere increase in rating. Given what I have going on and what I am willing and not willing to give up for you, I am complete. Getting to a better place with you would be great, but it’s not my destination.

I won’t be able to take you out on Tuesday’s for our “date night”. Kali actually pays her own way and helps me now. That’s our night. I regret to tell you that a week in Philly won’t be a reality this year. You want too much caviar and I can’t afford it. Besides, it brings out the worst in both of us. I’m open to a different date night. I hear Wednesday’s in Fitchburg can be inspiring.

If you are up for a more tame plutonic relationship and some good conversations with the occasional 64 dance, maybe at the end of the month we can do a weekend locally. Keeping it low keyed is better for me these days.

I know you must be upset, but please consider my offer. Maybe we can chat over coffee and see out the month of May looks like.

With respect,

Blunderprone