Send your unsigned legible confessions and accusations of 400 words or less, changing the names of the innocent and guilty, to "I, Anonymous," c/o The Stranger, 1535 11th Ave., Third Floor, Seattle WA 98122, or e-mail us at email@example.com.
You know who you are. You're the one who left your religious order to move here and be with me -- only to later run back home to Mommy at the age of 31 (shall I refer to you as Oedipus?!). I loved you completely, yet you chose your parents' persistent, horrible psychological abuse over the happiness we could have had together. Though you claimed to love me, I discovered over time that you possess one of the most fragmented personalities I've ever witnessed. You are a player of roles: priest, lover, singer, and Civil War re-enactor (what the hell was THAT all about?!). You are a shell of a man with no real soul -- doomed to meander through life playing whatever role suits you at the time.
My mother remembers you holding her hand and saying you would "never ever hurt [her] daughter." Well, congratulations, because you even make my ex-husband look good -- at least his nastiness was predictable. You promised me the world, planned a life with me, and then eviscerated me. The vows you took as a priest were meaningless, especially your so-called "vow of poverty," which didn't stop you from taking my money.
You are a total narcissist, and hurt me more than you can ever imagine. However, unlike you, I'm strong and have a conscience. I will heal, and I'm damned glad you're gone. Go mess with someone else's mind, and rest assured, there's a special place in hell for priests like you.