You're a beautiful woman, scary smart, driven, talented, creative, stylish, strong. So why does your attitude suck so much? And I do mean SUCK. It's a bitter, acrid, fetid, sucking wound. Nothing's good enough, exclusive enough, special enough for you if "too many" other, "lesser" people discover and enjoy what you have worked hard to discover. Oh, waaa. Maybe they don't perform their enjoyment to your specifications because they can't possibly be as uber, elite, and edge riding as you—but oh, come on, who can? Why deny them a little silly joy? Is it any skin off your sculptured space-age nose, really? Can't you have a little grace about it now and get that dyspeptic grimace off your cameo-classic face? What can you accomplish by spreading this pointless pall of bitterness? It drags people down, and that has to be dragging you down. And that makes me sad and angry, and I wish you could feel better. I miss what I've seen in you in flashes, fun bits of rare communication and caring, and I feel regret and sorrow and bafflement. And what a waste of beauty.

I doubt that we'll ever talk again, I know. But I had to say it.