I should not have done it.
I should not have put the envelope in the mail.
I broke through the Fourth Wall.
With a sledge hammer made of paper and postage.
You don’t want to hear from me.
You don’t want to know I am still here,
Still breathing and fighting for my life.
Fighting to write my story.
But I am.
Were you angry? Surprised?
Uncomfortable when you found it in your office mail?
Did you know it was from me?
Recognize me in the few words scrawled inside?
Did you guess or did you know?
Deep inside your gut.
Like a visit from beyond the grave.
Did you smile?
Did you understand the meaning of my gesture?
Not to haunt, not to vex.
But simply to acknowledge your success?
I tried to sit on the pride.
I stuffed it into a suitcase and sat upon it.
But it would not be silent.
It screamed to be heard.
It howled for freedom.
How could I keep it locked inside?
Such an accomplishment.
A goal you set finally coming to fruition.
How could I not want to congratulate you?
I tried to keep it to myself.
But that envelope found its way into my grocery bag.
And into that mailbox.
And into your hands.
I know I broke the rules.
I know I was not supposed to cross the Fourth Wall.
I just had to tell you.
How proud I am of you.
Happy for your success.
I’m breaking out the mortar and bricks.
And fixing the hole in that Wall.
This time, I will stay on my side.